Dollface
by Dropkicking Bullet Shells
Summary: It's funny how fate will continue to bring these two together until they get the point. Rick/Daryl AU
1. Chapter 1

**A/N-** No zombies, same characters! AU  
I don't like the racist things Merle says so ima keep him out as much as possible, but with Daryl comes his brother, so it's inevitable *sigh* =3=

**Plot-** It's funny how fate will keep bringing these two together until they get the point. Rick/Daryl AU

**Disclaimer-** I don't own Walking Dead, only the occasional OC that may or may not show up.

**Warning-** Mentions of past child abuse and rape, Male x Male, drinking, drugs, harsh language, violence, possible character death, mentioned adultery, non-con in later chapters, racism, sexism, Merle, ect.

**Parings-** Rick/Daryl ; Faultering Rick/Lori ; Shane/Lori ; Small amount of Carl/Sophia, misplaced and angry Shane/Daryl

XxxX

"I'm selfish, impatient and a little insecure. I make mistakes, I am out of control and at times hard to handle. But if you can't handle me at my worst, then you sure as hell don't deserve me at my best."  
_Marilyn Monroe_

XxxX

**Dollface-**

It was days like this that brought good friends together. Spring had finally kicked in and people were getting restless. Flowers were blooming almost as well as the privately owned shops that littered the streets of the tiny Alabama town.

Carl and Sophia were a bit too young to understand how businesses worked, though, so it hardly mattered to them if they thrived or not. Today, they were on their own little survival mission. Today, they were rebels.

Skipping school hadn't exactly been the worst thing they had ever done, but it certainly was up there. It was a last minute development in their schedule, when Sophia admitted that she had a long and boring math test that day and Carl brought up the amount of running he would have to do in PE.

They had chosen to go to their favorite park. The one with all the ducks. It was the time of year where ducklings began to hatch and the proof of new life would waddle in front of them in fluffy, yellow down feathers.

But, before they could get to feeding the birds, they had to pick up enough food to keep themselves and a flock of hungry animals content for the whole day.

It might have just been a coincidence that they happened to walk into this particular gas station's grocery store at this particular time.

It had quite a modern look about it, but no brand names or professional colors decorated the three pumps and their tiny shop. As they approached it, they were hit by the overwhelming scent of gasoline and dirt.

The two pre-teens grinned toothily at each other as the little bell above their heads rung when they pushed the heavy door open. The clerk at the register didn't even glance up.

The man behind the counter had a small scowl on his face, his deep blue eyes scanned the magazine he had propped up in one hand. His back was curved as he leaned over onto the counter in a lazy arch. His boots were tapping to an unheard beat, clapping against the cheap, dirty tiles softly. It was the only noise in the store other than the tiny freezers in the back that buzzed quietly.

He had a hillbilly look to him, patched up jeans, a sleeveless button up shirt and plenty of scars. He was intimidating, to say the least.

Sophia shot the clerk a scared look before turning her anxious eyes on Carl. "Is this really a good idea?" she whispered to her friend, brushing a few of the loose strands of her blonde hair back behind her ear.

Carl grinned impishly, "Hell yeah!" he cheered as softly as he could. He jumped as he heard his outburst echo around the room. The boy glanced over to see if the store's employee had noticed them yet. He hadn't. "This is a great idea!" he toned down to a whisper as well.

His friend smiled shyly, "I don't want to get caught..."

"We won't." Carl puffed out his chest and tried to look as manly as possible. "I totally know what I'm doing." He reached out and grabbed a small package of Hostess' Twinkies and, with one more glance over his shoulder at the redneck clerk, shoved them under his shirt.

Sophia tried to suppress a giggle, "You look all lumpy now!"

Carl's face tinted red with embarrassment and he tried his best to crush the treat into a less suspicious shape. "Shut up...", he pouted.

A snort of laughter later, Sophia tried to sober up. She looked around for her own favorites. Spotting a bag of peanuts, she turned to watch the clerk, who remained seated in the same, still position, before cramming them in her pocket. When no cops suddenly burst in and arrested her like she feared would happen, she breathed a sigh of relief.

"Peanuts?" Carl cooed mockingly, "What are you? Some sort of health nut?"

They both scoffed at the unexpected play on words, but that didn't keep Sophia from accepting the challenge. She ran over to the chips section and crammed a bag of Cheetos into the hood of her sweatshirt.

Carl refused to be upstaged. He bolted to the soda aisle, ripped open the clear refrigerator doors and slipped an ice cold Sprite into his sleeve. He shuddered, "C-cold!"

His friend laughed at him silently, wiping unshed tears from her eyes, "Smooth!"

"Bite me!" Carl shot back, "I bet I could totally get more than you!"

"Na-ah!" Sophia cried, as they lunged into the cookie section, "I'll take you up on that bet!"

They were both dead set on seeing who could hide the most Oreo packages on their person when the bell above the door rung again. The kids' attention suddenly shot to the new arrival.

The man was tall. His body was covered almost completely in loose, black clothing. He had a heavy hoodie on, one that wrinkled down his arms and bunched up around his neck when his hood was down. His gloved hands were shoved into the large pocket in his jacket, and his cold, malicious eyes were roaming over the store. He licked his chapped lips as his eyes rested on the seemingly oblivious clerk, retinas dilating in anticipation.

The giddy atmosphere between Carl and Sophia was nothing more than a snubbed flame once the man had walked in, replacing it with anxiety and over tensed nerves.

"I think we should go," Sophia whispered in the tiniest voice she could muster. She imagined that bringing attention to herself was a death sentence.

The strange man shifted his weight back and forth on his feet, swaying side to side. With a jerk of his arms, the new comer pushed himself away from the counter as if he'd been burned. Without a word, he wandered off towards the back room.

The clerk finally lifted his head, but only to glower at the new comer's retreating back suspiciously. His hands wandered across the counter to his cell phone. He played with it for a few seconds before shoving it into his shirt's breast pocket. He returned to his magazine.

Carl watched the clerk for any sign that the new man was a threat, but all he saw in the man's hollow eyes was anger, "I-I think we're okay... Let's just grab a few more things and bolt."

Sophia didn't look too encouraged by his response, but she continued to follow her friend around the store, sneaking a few smaller items into her pocket from time to time.

It was after they heard the clanking of chains and the snap of a lock clicking into place that Carl felt the urge to run until his feet bled. The strange suffocating nervousness seemed to double. He felt Sophia clutch onto his arm.

Carl looked over at his companion, but the only response he got was a shiver of fear that traveled like electricity from her to him. They silently agreed that it was time to go. They tried to get to the door, but the stranger walked heavily over to the entrance and blocked their way out.

He pulled a chain out from under his coat, and wrapped it around the handles of the double doors. The clerk wrinkled his nose but didn't look over. The man pulled out a lock and clicked into the chain.

As soon as Carl saw the gun his body froze in place. He pictured his mother and father crying at his funeral and poor little Sophia bleeding to death on the floor of a shitty store. He knew the same things were going through Sophia's mind because she was shivering hard.

The clerk didn't feel the same, though, that much Carl could register. If his life is flashing before his eyes then it must have been a terrible one because it wasn't fear radiating off the store's worker. It was disgust.

"You two!" the man ordered as he pointed the gun at them, "Go sit in the corner over there!" He motioned to the wall of glass refrigerator doors.

Carl's legs suddenly wouldn't work. Sophia doesn't seem in much better shape.

"Get the fuck over there!" the man bellowed and it finally snapped the kids out of their stunned phase and into frightened cowering.

Carl yanked Sophia into the corner and tried his best to hide her behind him.

The man turned his sights on the clerk, "Open that god damned register and give me all the money inside!" His demand was sharp and clear and vicious.

The clerk frowned again and, standing up straight, looked over at the man with such a condescending air that the robber stumbled back a bit.

"Open it!" The man ordered again, a bit taken aback, "Or I will kill you!"

"Ya have ta buy somethin'." the redneck finally spoke with a heavy southern accent, "else it wont open."

"Well, you better figure that the fuck out then, won't you!"

The southern man sighed, rolling his eyes as if this was not a life threatening situation but an inconvenience to his otherwise perfect day. He reached out and grabbed a bag of M&M's, scanning its barcode and punching in a few buttons. The cash register finally clicked open and the man pushed away the clerk's hands in a greedy frenzy.

He scooped up the bills and looked at them hungrily. After a few seconds of math, the robber slammed his hands onto the counter, ignoring the loose change that exploded in every direction.

"This is barely two hundred dollars!" the robber screamed, near hysteria, "Where is all the fucking money!"

"This is a gas station." the clerk grumbled, "The only reason anyone e'ver comes in here is fer a snack or a quick piss. Plus, everyone uses cards nowadays."

The man lashed out, slamming the butt of his gun into the clerk's temple. The employee stumbled backwards a bit before catching himself on the shelf of cigars behind him.

"Give me your wallet!" the robber snarled.

The clerk reached around to his back pocket and slammed his black, leather wallet onto the counter in between them. The robber grabbed for it with needy fingers and searched through it.

"You have six dollars in here! What the fuck!"

"Cigarette money." the other said duly, "Though, I hardly believe that's worth ex'plainin'."

The thief dug through the wallet angrily, "No credit cards! No debit cards! You don't even have a discount card!" He shuffled through the empty slots for a few seconds, "Ah! Here we go. A driver's license."

The clerk shot him a look of contempt.

"Name, Daryl Dixon." he laughed loudly, "A hick name to go with a hick boy. What? Was your mama too drunk to be more creative?"

Daryl's lips twitched into a silent snarl.

"Gonna freak out over there, white trash?" the robber coated his insults by mocking his accent, saying everything in terribly off putting southern drawl, "Your mommy a touchy subject for ya'll?" He reached forward and wrapped his fingers in the front of Daryl's shirt. He yanked him forward.

Daryl held back an angry wince as his hips made contact with the counter at a weird angle.

"What's wrong, hick? Am I holdin' you up? Late for a dinner date with your sister?" he breathed into his face.

"Eh, dogbreath, if I toss ya'll a stick will ya go away?" Daryl spat sourly.

"What was that?" the thief growled as he choked Daryl with his own shirt, "I dare you to say that again." As the shirt twisted, his phone was pushed out of his pocket. It crashed to the counter face up.

On the screen flashed the police emergency number, '911', along with the time it had been calling. Over five minutes.

XxxX

"And the man says, 'Well, I'm a lawyer and you don't see me trying to fuck the guy in front of me!'." Shane finished his joke and laughed.

Rick choked on the burger he was trying to wolf down as the laughter became contagious. The two cops were sitting in their squad car, parked outside a fast food joint. A bag of greasy fries and burgers sat between them.

"Where the hell did you hear that one, Shane?" Rick chuckled as he took a sip of his soft drink.

Shane grinned, his smile large and friendly, "That's a long story."

Rick laughed again, hiding his smile behind his drink, "Yeah, whatever. I bet it's just embarrassing."

"Kiss my ass!" Shane scoffed, cuffing his friend over the head playfully.

They sat in comfortable silence for a few minutes, listening to the police radio buzz in the background. The last week or so had been very calm for the two police officers. They had finished up a very important case and they were waiting for it to be processed so they could move onto their next one. Until then, they were stuck patrolling.

Shane twisted his straw between his fingers and listened to the ice in his cup slush around before taking a sip. He cleared his throat awkwardly, "So, how's Lori?"

The other cop glanced over to him from the corner of his eyes. He slowly opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted by the ringing of his cell phone. He glanced at the caller and laughed, "Speak of the devil."

He flipped his phone open and answered it with a smile, "Hello, Lori."

Shane cast his gaze out the window, listening to the conversation as he watched other cars drive by. The car was quiet enough to hear both sides of the conversation.

"Carl didn't go to school today."

Rick chuckled lovingly, "What? Is he playing sick again?"

"His principal called." his wife grit out in a deadly serious tone, "Apparently, after I dropped him off he ran off with that Sophia girl."

"You mean he skipped? He didn't go at all?" Rick sighed, carding a troubled hand through his curly brown locks.

"That's exactly what I mean."

"Well, where is he?"

"How the hell should I know!" Lori barked.

"Well," Rick shrugged, retaining his calm persona, "I was just hoping you had an idea."

"Well, I don't." Rick could picture his wife with a hand on her hip and her eyebrows furrowed accusingly.

"What about Sophia's parents?" Rick offered, "Do they know where Sophia could be?"

"Oh, we both know what that family is like." Lori almost growled. She brought up a good point, though. Sophia's mother, Carol, was a kind and gentle spirit, but her father was another story. Everyone knew where the fresh bruises that battered her body came from.

"Why don't you call up some of their close friends and see if there's a meeting place that the kids like to hang out at." Rick suggested, "I'm at work so there's not much I can do. If you want me to come home, though, I will."

"Don't bother." Lori's voice cut at him.

"Lori, I can-" Rick looked down at his phone.

_'Call ended.'_ It blinked up at him

"She hung up on me." Rick mumbled to himself, but Shane lifted his head back up for a chance to get his own opinion into the conversation.

"Don't worry, man." he comforted, "She's just worried 'bout Carl is all."

"Let's hope your right."

"We have a possible armed robbery at..."

Shane and Rick perked their ears up as they listened to the police radio.

"That's right by us." Shane announced as he pulled the squad car into drive and flipped on the siren.

"Let's get 'um." Rick agreed as he crunched the bag of their food up and placed it on the floor.

XxxX

Daryl head hit the bottom of the glass refrigerator with a sickening crunch. The beer bottles behind the door rattled, clicking together noisily. In his dazed stupor, he wasn't sure whether it was his skull or the glass itself that cracked.

Sophia and Carl both yelped in surprise as the full grown man crashed beside them, knocking over boxes and shelves only a foot or two away.

The thief growled deeply, he sounded dangerously close to a vicious animal.

Sirens wailed somewhere in the distance and the tension increased as they waited to see if the police cruiser would pass. It didn't. Three cop cars swerved into the parking lot, screeching to a stop. A couple of police jumped out of each car, the uniformed men stayed behind their vehicles' doors.

"Look what you've done!" the lone robber nearly sobbed, an air of panic and desperation came off of him in waves. "Stupid. Fucking. Hick!" He punctuated each word with a kick at Daryl's ribs.

Daryl flinched with each blow, softening the damage as much as possible.

The man ran a hand through his greasy hair as he mumbled to himself quietly.

"This is the police!" the sound of the cop's megaphone startled the thief, "Come out with your hands up!"

"Oh fuck. Oh fuck. Oh fuck." the man whined as the realization of the trouble he was in dawned on him.

"J-just give yourself up..." Carl stuttered nervously. Sophia nodded her agreement, shrinking further away from the situation when the robber cast his angry gaze over to them.

"Shut up!" the criminal screamed, eyes wide with delirium.

The two children held onto each other, whimpering.

"Takes a lot of fuckin' balls ta scream at sum kids." Daryl hissed as he pulled himself up into a sitting position slowly.

"I'm not fucking done with you, yet!" the heister grabbed a handful of Daryl's hair pulling him off the ground and then dropping him again. He stomped down on the clerk's stomach as he slipped further on to the floor. Daryl grunted as the air in his lungs rushed out. He laid there winded for a few seconds.

Carl lept to his feet in a rush of misplaced heroism, rushing at the clerk's attacker and barreling into his side with all his might. The thief stumbled a bit but then turned his wild eyes on the boy.

"I'll fucking teach you to fuck with me!" the man reached out for Carl, who tried to leap back, and tripped over Sophia. They both crashed to the floor, tangled up together.

With the man distracted, Daryl took the opportunity to kick the thief's feet out from under him. The redneck jumped on the man, struggling to grab hold of the handgun and assert his dominance at the same time.

With rough fingers, Daryl was able to wrap his hands around their attacker's throat, crushing down on his windpipe with ease. The man choked and flailed.

When he heard the handgun cocked, Daryl's eyes snapped over to the weapon. His breath caught when he followed the line of fire straight to the two cowering kids. He glanced back at the man finally under his grasp. In his eyes was a threat.

_'Let me go, or else.'_

Daryl snarled and slowly rolled off the man, staying on his knees as the attacker scrambled up onto his feet.

The man ripped his fingers through the redneck's hair again, yanking him forward and slamming the side of his head into the refrigerator once more.

The heister clearly had murder on his mind, and Daryl was silently contemplating what was stopping him.

XxxX

Rick restlessly shuffled from foot to foot as he tried to get a good look at who exactly was in the store but a shelf of chips blocked his view. Shane was beside him, twitching just as much as he was. Adrenaline was rushing through them, making them itchy for some action.

"And I thought today was gonna be just another calm and relaxing day on the job." Shane laughed to himself.

"Did 'ya see the perpetrator yet?" Another cop asked from behind his car, gun propped up against the door in case things made a quick jolt for the worse.

"He occasionally pops his head up, so I can see him every once in awhile." Rick answered, "The door is chained closed, so we can't make a quick entrance. We'll have to wait it out for now."

"How many hostages, can you see?"

"None." Rick sighed at his own failure, "but we should assume that he at least has the cash register clerk in there."

"Can we get any feed from the cameras recording in there?" Shane asked, "Or perhaps some of the tapes from earlier today?"

"Sorry, but no." another cop grumbled, "The camera is too outdated. Doesn't have a feed to hack into and the tapes are inside."

Rick sighed as he listened to the cop with the megaphone talking again.

"This is your last warning before we force our way in!" it blared, "Come out with your hands up!"

A van pulled up to the curb and a news reporter and a camera man jumped out, they worked in a blur, setting up fast. The reporter fixed his hair in a small pocket mirror, checked his teeth and put on the largest, fakest smile Rick had seen in a long time. They began filming and the officers just ignored them.

"How the hell is it that these reporters always know when shit's going down!" Shane whispered with a mix of suspicion and laughter, "They're like vultures to corpses."

Rick was about to respond when the criminal poked his head into view. Guns cocked down the line. The man glared at them warningly and taped a paper up to the glass inside. He walked away, holding up his gun in a no nonsense threat.

Everyone went silent, each daring the next to take a look at the note.

Rick slid away from the protection of his cruiser's door, stepping lightly and quickly over to the store's entrance. Shane reached out for him as he was going, words dying on his lips in a worried cough.

When Rick finally reaches the door, he scaned the room but saw nothing but a foot stuck out from behind the shelf.

_ 'Someone injured?'_

He didn't spot the gun wielding threat so he looked down and read the note aloud, "It says, 'I have three hostages. Two are kids. Don't press your luck or you might as well start looking for some smaller body bags.'"

Rick returned to the safety his car offered.

Shane watched him, "You don't think..." He didn't dare finish the sentence.

"No." Rick bit out, "Carl and Sophia wouldn't come here. They don't have any money."

With that the conversation was over.

XxxX

While the man was distracted taping up pen pal letters for the cops, Daryl turned to the kids he was trapped with. "Listen here." He ordered, eyes cold and narrowed, "We're gunna get ya the hell outa here, ya hear?"

Sophia didn't seem to be in any state to respond, so Carl answered for both of them. His voice wavered and he hated himself for that, "A-alright."

Daryl pointed out the hallway that led to the back entrance and the bathrooms, "Stay on yer hands and knees and crawl over there. Be as quiet as possible."

The three moved together across the grimy floor, Carl helping a traumatized Sophia along and Daryl leading up the back, keeping a wary eye out for the dangerous man they were trying to escape.

They finally got to the hallway, and Daryl hissed at them to pick up the pace. Once at the door, Daryl stood and gripped the handle. He yanked and pushed and twisted, but the door only shook and rattled the chains that held it closed.

"What the fuck!" Daryl heard the man gasp. He doubled his efforts.

He changed tactics, dropping to the ground and trying to punch the glass out. He felt his knuckles crack under the force. His heart raced as he heard the robber running towards them.

Daryl dropped onto his back, this time attempting to kick the glass away. It didn't budge.

"Fuck." He sat up and, once on his knees, began to shout, hoping the cops or somebody would hear him.

The two kids pressed against him in fear as the man approached. Daryl could feel the little girl's violent sobs.

The redneck heard footsteps behind the door and for a second, Daryl let himself believe that all hope was not lost. He looked up to see the dark lense of a camera staring back at him, unsympathetic and cold.

A news reporter and his cameraman were gawking at them, watching with a mix of horror and something else. Something Daryl couldn't quite put a finger on. Something he had seen in his father's eyes when...

Were these people just going to watch them die?

XxxX

Rick wrinkled his nose as he watched the gun wielding thief look around frantically and head towards the back of the store. Something dawned on him.

"Hey, Shane?" he waited for his friend to meet his eyes, "Is there is a back entrance to this store?"

Shane shrugged and tried to get a good look at the way the store was built, "Maybe."

"I think we should risk a quick check."

Shane shook his head, "Nah, I think we need eyes right here."

"C'mon, Shane!" Rick sighed, "I'm going either way and I would really like some back up." The curly haired cop made his way towards the building, bringing out his state issued handgun and creeping along the wall.

Shane followed him without anymore argument, but he did scoff loudly every few steps they took.

The first thing Rick noticed when he turned the corner was the the news reporter and the camera. The two men were filming, both somber and silent as a grave.

_'What the?'_

Shane was the first to rush forward, and with his partner by his side, Rick was able to follow quickly. Together, they ran over to the news crew and pushed them aside. Shane watched the men as Rick's attention snapped straight to the door.

The cop could see through the dirty, chipped glass, and what he saw made his mouth go dry and his heart skip a beat.

There was a man, his head was turned to face the robber, but the rest of his body was physically shielding two small children from any harm. At first, Rick thought he had been mistaken when he felt a draw towards the little boy and girl. He didn't like the foreboding feeling that was slowly creeping up his spine.

And then, god damnit, the boy turned to face him. His round, frightened eyes clouded by unshed tears and panic.

"Carl." Rick croaked.

Shane spun around at the name, shoulders tense and eyes bulging. "Carl?" he asked in disbelief, but then he saw the children and his body started to move for him. The officer slammed himself into the door, screeching profanities and threats.

Once snapped out of the initial shock, Rick stood. His face was etched out of rage. The two police officers rammed their bodies into the door together. The glass began to crack.

XxxX

The sound of cracking and crying made Daryl snap his neck back so fast he had whiplash. Two cops were trying to ram the door.

The little boy was clinging on to him with a surprisingly restraining grip. The redneck looked around for any means of escape.

Footsteps approached from behind him, and dammit, Daryl was beginning to feel surrounded. The heister grabbed the collar of his shirt and yanked him backwards before he could defend himself.

He was dragged a few feet down the hallway, and for a few seconds near the beginning, Daryl thought the kids were coming too. They let go of him, mostly due to shock and watched in absolute horror as the clerk was pulled into a kneeling position.

Daryl could feel the cold metal of the barrel against his temple. He didn't have to see it to know he was far up shit creek without a paddle.

The officers didn't take notice until it was too late. They were so determined to break that damn door down that they forgot there were guns involved. Daryl didn't blame them, though. There were children involved, too.

The glass finally gave way and crashed to the ground. The robber finally lost it and pulled the trigger.

XxxX

**A/N-** To me, Daryl seemed a bit out of charater in this chapter, but everyone's a little diffrent under pressure when there 'ain't not zombies 'round!' Next chapter I hope to see them all a bit more In character. I'll apoligize now, as of a few weeks ago, my writing mojo seems to be a bit... stale... but I really hope you can't tell... ahah!

Thank you for reading and I hope to see you in the next chapter! Please review!


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N-** Thank you so much to **The Emcee**, **Ice Dragon3**, **Silver Mirror**, **danae.14**, and **Isabelle**!~ Your reviews made me so happy!~ Also, thanks to those who subscribed and/or favorited my story! To show my gratitude, here is chapter 2~ I hope you like it!~

I fell like I have something important to say... but I can't think what it is...

XxxX

"A word to the wise ain't necessary - it's the stupid ones that need the advice."  
_Bill Cosby_

XxxX

**Dollface-**

Daryl wasn't a stranger to death. When he was four, Merle had taught him how to catch and strangle the rats in their attic. When he was eight, he watched his drunken father run over the neighbor's cat with the lawn mower. When he was twelve the homeless man that burrowed in a box across the street over dosed on his drive way. No, Daryl wasn't a stranger. The relationship fell more along the lines of 'roommate'.

He always told himself that he would stand tall when his time came, like any Dixon would. He always told himself he would go down fighting, that he would make his father and older brother proud of him.

But, in the face of death, Daryl froze up. His body went rigid and stiff. His mind went through all of his past experiences so fast he was left winded.

He had a feeling that as soon as the world went black he would fade away forever. All sound and sight and all his feeling would evaporate into the endless nothingness.

But that didn't happen.

Daryl opened his eyes. He stared at the boring pale walls of the gas station and felt sick, but for a single blissful moment, he could almost breath again.

XxxX

As soon as Rick could grab onto his son, he did. He felt Carl shivering and shaking with sobs against his chest. He heard Shane rushing over to scoop Sophia into her arms. The poor girl was a real mess, eyes wide and body convulsing with fear.

Rick tried to be relieved but his mind was just beginning to catch up with his bodies movements and everything hit him fast and hard. He nearly dropped Carl as he pounced back to his feet. His left side was weighed down by his child, so he stumbled a bit before catching himself and drawing his gun.

And there was the gunman, with the clerk on the floor in front of him. It was like watching a suspenseful film in slow motion. The robber's finger curled around the trigger at that moment. Rick's breath hitched in his chest. His first thoughts were for his son, who was about to watch a man die in front of him. His second thoughts, however, were for those hauntingly blue eyes that bore into him with a mix of blame and guilt, and god, he just wanted to close his eyes and turn his gaze away as those dismal, guarded orbs faded and clouded with death. But he couldn't.

_Click._

And everything moved again.

The robber's face twisted in horror as his gun jammed, the bullet lodged in the barrel and his hand kicked back with the force. Rick moved, leaving his brain behind once more, as his own gun aimed and unloaded into the gunman. Half of the magazine emptied into the man. His body twitched violently as each bullet hit him. A couple didn't hit the gunman at all, in Rick's hast, his aim was off. He heard the some of the windows behind the scene crack and smash loudly to the floor.

There was a moment of silence before the gunman hit the ground with a heavy thud and it wasn't until a puddle of blood had already reached the clerk's feet that anyone actually moved.

It was Shane. Rick's partner handed Sophia off to one of the other police men who were now swarming around the back entrance to the gas station. He pushed the line back, making sure there was room for the paramedics to get in.

Rick felt his friend by his side, his rough fingers wrapping around his hand and softly peeling the gun out of his fingers. He heard him whispering comfort and praise into his ear as he took Carl out of his arms. For a second, he wanted to lash out at Shane for touching his son, but the feeling of misplaced anger was swallowed by numbness.

"Here, let's get Carl looked at, okay?" Shane passed Carl off to a paramedic, who waited patiently for the kid to unclench his fingers from Shane's uniform.

Rick watched as a few more officers of the medical team slipped the gunman onto a stretcher and wheeled him outside. The clerk was still on his knees, his attacker's blood slowly staining the hem of his jeans. His eyes were staring down at the floor, his hands were limp in his lap and his shoulders were slumped in either defeat of relief.

The officer found his feet walking towards the store's employee and he crouching down next to him, mindful of the spilled blood, "Are you alright?" his voice came out in a husky whisper, almost as if he had been screaming his throat raw.

The clerk's head turned cautiously and his cocoa brown hair fell away from his eyes. He looked at Rick, his face was twisted with such pain and betrayal and distrust that it nearly broke the officer's heart.

"Are you alright?" Rick choked out. His body was flooded with all the emotions he felt the clerk holding back. He felt suffocated. Alone. Cold. "Do you need the paramedics to look at you."

The clerk finally opened his mouth, flicking his tongue out to lick his dry lips, "No. M' fine." He sounded surprisingly calm.

Rick cleared his throat so he could talk normally, he hoped he sound as sure of himself as the man before him, "I beg to differ," he forced a small chuckle, "You were almost killed today. Anyone would be shaken up."

"Fuck you." the clerk suddenly snarled and Rick almost fell backwards in shock, "I said M' fine."

Rick watched as the man pulled himself to his feet. He reached out when the clerk's legs shook and nearly gave out, ready to catch him if need be. But, the man didn't fall. He straightened himself out and walked back to the register with his head held high.

After collecting his wallet and a few more things from behind the counter, the clerk slipped on his jacket and headed out the disfigured door, boots crunching the glass under toe. Rick watched him go, completely mesmerized by the confident sway of his hips and the steady, bold beat of his feet on the pavement.

"Are you staring at that hick's ass?" Shane joked, bumping his shoulder in brotherly affection, "Don't let your wife find out or she'll be crazy jealous."

Rick sighed and without looking, swatted Shane over the head, "No, of course not. I'm just wondering how he can walk out of here looking so... sure of himself after all that happened."

Shane shook his head, "Freak of nature, I guess. Bet he doesn't have any feelings.

The other hummed in what could have been taken as agreement. But it wasn't. Rick had seen nothing but raw emotion on the clerk's face and nothing anyone could try to tell him would convince him other wise.

"The other cops are going to take care of clean up, I say we get you and your son and little Sophia back home before this gets too crazy." Shane muttered into Rick's ear as he led him outside with the hand he had placed on the middle of his back.

They were just getting outside before a hoard of reporters were on them, ripping and tearing at each other to get a piece of information. Questions were thrown at them angrily but Shane battered them away and shooed the cameras off with empty threats of jail time.

"I wish there was a proper way to thank you for saving me. Again." Rick smiled to his friend but it didn't quite reach his tired, worried eyes. "I need to get the kids out of here."

"You can thank me by going home and getting your boy safe." Shane grinned back at him. Rick loved his friend's smile. It always gave him hope.

Rick went to open his cop car's door, but the kids weren't inside. He turned to question Shane.

Shane pointed out a small knick in the hood of the squad car and Rick eyed it carefully. A bullet hole. One of his shots from inside must have passed through the window and hit his car.

"Wont it start?" Rick asked.

"Nope." Shane sighed, "Looks like it hit some pretty important shit, but one of the guys is going to let us borrow their squad's car. They're going to take ours to the shop for us."

Rick opened his mouth to apologize, but Shane shook his head and ushered him into another car. Carl and Sophia were curled together on the back seat, eyes drooping with exhaustion as the adrenaline in their tiny bodies wore off.

Shane closed the driver seat door once he had pushed Rick inside and leaned against the outer window, "Drive carefully." He waved as Rick pulled into reverse and backed out of the gas station.

Just as they were driving off, Rick caught sight of the clerk again. He was trying to get a couple of camera men off him as he got in his old, worn down Chevy truck. For a second, Rick contemplated helping him, but the thought passed just as quickly.

The clerk was the strong, independent type. He could handle himself.

XxxX

"I can't believe you!" Lori slammed another dirty dish in the sink and turned on the faucet, letting the bubbles rise as she scrubbed it clean again.

"Believe what? I already talked to Carl. He understands that skipping school is wrong at that he almost died today because of it. He's a smart kid, Lori." Rick defended calmly. He wiped down the kitchen table and placed the cloth next to where his wife was working.

"He should be punished! He had me worried sick and he gets off so easily." Lori growled and slammed the now sparkling plate on to the drying rack.

"I talked with him-"

"And that's all you did."

"He almost died today, Lori." Rick reached out and took Lori's wet hands in his, rubbing his thumb over the top of her wrists lovingly, "We almost lost him. I understand that your angry. I am too. But, I don't think Carl should be punished. He was already punished today with fear. He was so scared. He was traumatized."

"He didn't seem traumatized to me." Lori sighed.

She was right there. Rick expected to have to take his boy into counseling after the events of that day, but after collapsing on the couch for a nap once they got home, Carl woke up to be just as happy and hyper as ever. The only way Rick could tell that his kid even remembered what happened was that he kept bringing up how _'cool' _and _'epic'_ the gas station's clerk was when he saved him and Sophia.

"Well, I still don't think he should be punished." Rick collapsed in one of the chairs at the kitchen table and flipped through the news channels on the TV.

"And I do." Lori grumbled sourly as she finished cleaning the dishes from dinner and put them away in their proper places. She leaned against the island once she finished and watched her husband silently for a bit. "We were so close to losing him today." she finally said, tears pooling in her eyes.

Rick looked up at her and gave her his most supporting smile, "I know. I was scared too." He pulled himself to his feet and padded over to her. Wrapping his arms around her waist, Rick pulled his wife up against him, "I'm so sorry."

"It's not your fault, Rick." Lori finally admitted, "It's not your fault." She placed her hands on his chest and just sat there basking in the protective wave her husband gave off.

_"A hostage situation earlier today left two children and a gas station's clerk in some serious danger-"_

Rick pulled away from Lori and walked into the living room, staring down at the television's news report curiously.

_"A gas station clerk was forced to play hero today when a man made his way into the store he was employed at and took him and two young children hostage."_ A small box appeared at the corner of the screen with the film they had taken. The clerk was in the hallway, protecting Sophia and Carl with his body as he tried to break the door down. As the gunman approached, he hissed and snarled like a dog protecting it's pups. _"The reluctant hero had this to say..."_ It moved shots to the clerk walking to his car. Rick remembered the scene. He remembered those certain, assured strides he took.

_Bleeep "Excuse me," Bleep. _The broadcasting company had to censor the clerk's colorful swearing,_ "I have," Bleep, "to do and you're standing in my," Bleeep, "way!"_

God, he looked pissed.

The reporter popped up on the screen again, her painted lips curled up in a smile, _"The man has now been positively identified as Daryl Dixon, a small town man from the outskirts of town. It was rumored that he refused any medical attention and simply drove away from the scene once the cops took over. It certainly raises the question, 'What do the cops plan to do with this man?"_

"Was that the man who saved Carl." Lori finally spoke up, her words put into more of a tense statement than an actual question.

"Yeah." Rick answered, turning away from the screen to look at Lori, "It was."

She scoffed and rolled her eyes and Rick found himself offended for some reason.

"What, Lori? Is he not good enough to save our only child?" Rick asked in his same level tone.

"No, I'm just surprised he's getting so much publicity. He was probably only acting to save his own skin."

"Come on, Lori. I think we should at least be grateful. I certainly am."

Lori looked at him, exasperated, "What the hell do you want, Rick? You want to invite him over for a celebratory dinner in his honor? Fine! Fucking find him and we'll toast to his good fucking health."

Rick ran his hands over his face as he listened to Lori storm upstairs. It looked like he was sleeping on the couch again.

XxxX

"We got a new case, brother!" Shane flopped the heavy file onto Rick's desk and plopped down into his chair.

Rick flipped through the papers with one hand while the other was used to prop up his head. He sipped at his coffee tiredly. The case seemed to circle around an unknown drug dealer selling bad drugs that sent several people to the hospital already.

"What's wrong, Rick? Long night?" Shane asked with a cocksure grin.

"Not really." Rick grumbled into his drink, "Lori kicked me to the couch last night."

Shane winced comically, "Ohh! How'd you fuck up this time?"

"You remember the clerk that... who was at that gas station yesterday?"

"The hick? Yeah. Speaking of which, how's Carl?"

"Carl's fine, he even insisted on going to school and seeing Sophia today. But, Daryl Dixon..." He remembered hearing the name on the news, he remembered thinking it in his head over and over as he contemplated what happened at the gas station during his sleepless night. But, this was the first time he had said it. It tasted funny on his tongue. "I thought we should be grateful to the guy for helping Carl and Sophia... but Lori just wants to forget about him."

Shane laughed hard and long, "You spent a night on the wrong side of your wife because you defended that redneck? You really are the stupid one!"

Rick let his friend laugh at him, but he didn't regret standing up for the stranger. It was the right thing to do.

"Hey, Rick, Shane!" another voice joined them. It was Johnny, another cop from another squad.

Shane's smile morphed into a large welcoming grin as he turned to face their coworker, "Rick, say thank you to the man who saved our asses yesterday! After letting us take his squad car, he took ours to the shop!"

"Thank you so much, Johnny." Rick smiled up at the kid, "I wish I could repay you."

"It was nothing!" Johnny called shyly. He was young, maybe in his early twenties. Rick had never got around to asking.

"Nothing my ass!" Shane laughed, pulling the kid into a chair beside them, "If you ask me, you should get some kind of award!"

Johnny blushed hard in embarrassment, "I-I just came over to tell you I got a call from the shop... They said your car was finished."

"Already?" Rick asked with a raised brow.

"Shit, they work fast!" Shane commented with the same surprised look on his face, "Where the hell did you take it, 'cause I know the repair shop I use certainly doesn't work that fast."

"Uh... No." Johnny smiled, "I found this small place a couple months back. Fast and efficient. They fix almost anything over night, and they're cheap too."

"And where have you been hiding this little gem!" Shane laughed, "Sign me the fuck up!"

Rick nodded in agreement with his friend, "Yeah, sounds too good to be true."

"It isn't." Johnny smiled, "I've been using these guys for months and there has never been a catch!" He quickly jotted down an address on a loose piece of paper with a nearby pen and passed it off to Rick. "They said you could pick your car up anytime today." He said as he stood and made his way back to his desk with a wave.

After eyeing the paper, Rick sighed, "Would you mind dropping me off at this place, Shane?"

"Nah, I'm on my way out to check out a few locations on our new case anyway, so it should be fine."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. I got a few good ideas on which rats I can question." Shane said as he grabbed the keys to his truck.

Rick followed him out, shrugging on his coat, "So we have to find this drug dealer and put him behind bars?" He already knew the answer.

"That's how this works." Shane grinned at him toothily.

XxxX

The guy at the counter was clearly high. He had a dumb look on his face and the smell of pot was surrounding him heavy and strong. He grinned stupidly up at Rick when he walked in and greeted him with a badly placed, "'Sup."

Lucky for the pot head, Rick wasn't in the mood to deal with him and the paper work that would surely come with taking him in, so he simply smiled dryly at him and asked for his car.

"T'sin da back." The man slurred out, "Guy's changin' sum'tin on it. Say'ed he'd do it fer free since it was so shitty!"

"Just point me to where I can find my car." Rick ordered tiredly.

"If ya go outside and turn right, you'll see a _big_ door. Go into the big door."

Rick paid for the surprisingly cheap fix and followed the druggie's directions with an irritated huff. Sure enough, there was a big door right outside that lead to a garage.

There were a few cars in the shop, but Rick didn't see anybody working on them. He heard the clink of tools echoing around the large room, so he figured someone must be working somewhere.

"Hello?" Rick called out, but no one answered.

The officer walked further into the mess of gasoline and metal. He saw his car in the middle of the maze and headed over. He admired the handy work done on his car. The whole thing was spotless. Every speck cleaned away from the surface until it sparkled. The hood was completely replaced, or at the very least, it looked so. He ran his fingers across the surface, feeling the energy and effort the mechanic must have put into it.

Rick circled his car, letting the tips of his fingers brush along the exterior as he went. He was so lost in shock at the amazing state it was in that he nearly tripped over a set of legs protruding from underneath the driver's side.

"Hello?" Rick tried to get the mechanic's attention, but the worker didn't seem to hear him. He squatted down next to the limbs and listened. He could faintly hear music coming from underneath the vehicle. He recognized the Lynyrd Skynrd song.

The officer reached out to put his hands at the bottom of the mechanic's Creeper, attempting to pull him out from under his car without shocking him too bad. His hand twitched, though. At the last second, his arm moved and instead of grabbing the skate board, Rick felt his hand brush against the man's inner thigh.

The man lurched up, or at least tried to, but with a car in his way he didn't go too far. Rick winced at the sound of the poor man's head hitting metal with a loud thud. There was a hiss pain and a few colorful swears.

It hit Rick like a pillow case full of bricks. He recognized that voice.

Daryl Dixon wheeled himself out from under the cop car with a glare that screamed murderous intent. The redneck sat up and ripped his earbuds out. Lyrics to _'Sweet home Alabama' _flowed out a bit clearer.

Rick noticed his hands were bandaged tightly and somewhere in he back of his head, he wondered if he had been the one to fix himself up after the gas station insident.

"Don't you fucking dare think for a second tha' jus' 'cause yer a payin' customer I wont strangle you to death righ' here." the mechanic grit out as he rubbed his bruising forehead. A bit of car grime transferred from his dirty fingers to his face, smearing parts of his head black. Rick could tell that Daryl recognized him, his lips twitched downwards when he saw the cop.

"I'm so sorry," Rick tried not to smirk, "I didn't mean to scare you."

"You didn't fuckin' scare meh!" Daryl went on the defensive with practiced speed, "I dun fuckin' get scared."

Rick kneeled down, smiling at the redneck, "You've done a lot for me over the last two days."

"Yeah, well," Daryl began throwing his dirty tools into a bag, "fixin' cahrs is meh job."

Rick raised a brow at the way the redneck pronounced 'cars', almost as if there was an 'h' in there somewhere. It made him feel giddy. "I'm not talking about the car."

Daryl didn't respond. He finished packing his tools, stood, and kicked his Creeper out from under the cop car. Rick stood with him.

"I wanted to thank you for saving Carl and Sophia yesterday. If anything would have happened to him..." Rick's eyes clouded at the thought, "Just thank you. From the bottom of my heart."

Daryl walked over to a dingy bench and dropped his tool bag onto it. He wiped his hands off on his tacky, blue coveralls.

Rick felt the silence, but it wasn't uncomfortable as he suspected it would be. It was open and cozy and despite the stingy air, fresh. Against his own wishes, he broke it, "So, you work two jobs? Must be hell."

"So fuckin' what? Think I can't handle it?" The man jumped to verbally protect himself again. It seemed to frustrate the mechanic to no end when his strength was put into question. He defended himself so quickly that it had to be an instinctual thing.

"No, no..." Rick waved his hands in submission, "Nothing like that... But, you're more of a man than me. I work one job and practically collapse as soon as I get home."

Daryl narrowed his eyes at the unexpected praise. Damn, those eyes. So teal, like blue zircon. Looking into them was something similar to being in the middle of an aquarium. Rick could almost feel the alien world coming to life around him.

"I want you to come over for dinner." Rick heard himself say.

"The fuck-" Daryl began to say. He was going to refuse. Rick could feel it.

"As a thank you for saving my son." the cop tried to convince.

"Don't suppose yer wife would be too happy 'bout that." Daryl rolled his eyes at the 'joke'? he made.

Rick laughed as he remembered Lori's reaction to the idea, "It was her idea." Rick lied, hoping that would do it.

"No." Daryl responded coldly.

For a second, Rick was confused, "What?"

"I don't wanna _intrude_ on yer white picket fence life, or meet yer poster perfect family and have some happy turkey roast dinner." he said this as if these were dirty, unforgivable things. "I've been through enough hell in one life time, I think I've earned a free pass for this one." Daryl grabbed a set of car keys off the bench and tossed them to Rick. "Yer cahrs all fixed now. Go home."

Rick watched with disappointment as Daryl walked into the employee's lounge and slammed the door closed. He felt a loss weighing heavily on his chest, but he didn't give himself time to think about it. He headed back to his car and slipped in, taking only a minute to admire how clean it was. All the trash had been cleaned out and everything else was stacked nicely in the back seat.

The interior of the squad car no longer smelled like old fries and coffee stains. Now it smelled like the forest, like the rain, like the grass and warm summer days. Now it smelled like Daryl Dixon.

XxxX

**A/N-** I hope you like it!~ Please review and leave your thoughts on the way out! The next chapter, things get complicated and shit goes down!~ Can't wait to write it!

Now, I am so damn curious, who here had to look up 'blue zircon', cause I had no fuckin' idea what it was until a few weeks ago? Ahahaha!


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N-** I don't know how old Beth, Hershel's youngest daughter, is (believe that's her name *shrug*) She looks 16 or 17, but in this story she's going to be Carl and Sophia's age. (10 or 12)

My favorite quote of the week that has nothing to do with the story- "_I'm so sick of Irish stereotypes. After I finish my drink, I'm punching someone in the face."_  
*Snicker, snicker*

Special shout out to **Ice Dragon3**, **Silver Mirror**, **The Emcee**, **anon **and **writerchick0214** ! Your reviews make my day everytime! Thank to those who favorited and/or subscribed to my story as well!~

XxxX

"Love begins with an image; lust, with a sensation"  
_Mason Cooley_

XxxX

**Dollface-**

Rick didn't know much about Hershel Greene and his family, only that they lived on a large nine acre farm a few miles out of town.

They talked every once and awhile, Hershel and Rick, during the occasional parent teacher conference or when they bumped into each other during a run into town. They weren't friends. More like acquaintances.

Carl and Sophia knew Hershel's youngest daughter, Beth, very well, or so Rick had heard. He wasn't exactly keeping track of the social ranks at his son's middle school.

There had been rumor of a birthday party floating around campus as of recent, and Carl was very nearly bubbling with excitement at the thought. When he got the invitation he wouldn't sit still for hours.

Today was finally the day of the party and Carl was already sitting in the car with his present in tow. Rick was in charge of driving his son over to the Greene's farm, and he was on his way over to do that job when Lori stopped him. The angry look on her face gave Rick an idea on the outline of the conversation before it started.

"I don't think Carl should go." she said as she folded her arms and leaned against the front door's frame.

Rick stopped half way across the porch and frowned, "And why's that?"

Lori narrowed her pretty brown eyes and scowled at him with a look that told Rick that he already knew the answer.

"Lori," the police officer mumbled, trying not to let Carl see them arguing, "it's been almost two weeks."

"Are you telling me I'm no longer aloud to be upset about it?"

"I'm saying-"

"My son was almost killed. It may have been two weeks ago, but that doesn't mean the wound's not fresh." Lori hissed. She certainly was the mamma bear that he once fell in love with.

The gas station incident had come and gone, and though it didn't seem to have left any permanent scars in their lives, it hadn't failed to lay the occasional speed bump on the road to recovery.

"I don't expect something like that to disappear, Lori," secretly, Rick hoped it would, "but we have to move on."

"Move on?" Lori scoffed, her face twisted in exasperation.

"Hurry up!" Carl's tiny, excited voice broke through the tension in the air and Rick turned to see him beaming, "I'm gonna be late for the party if we don't leave now!"

Rick saw the warmth in his son's face. He thought about bending to Lori's needs for a second, but when he pictured the disappointment that would douse Carl's fire, he turned back to Lori and waited for her to give in. It didn't take long.

"Fine." she didn't sound happy. She sounded worried and frustrated. "Take him to the damn party." Her tone promised a fight when he got back.

XxxX

It had been while they were driving. Carl was watching the city pass with a blur and Rick had his eyes on the road, but at the same time, their heads turned to face each other. There gazes met and Rick smiled lovingly at Carl's childishly innocent smile.

"I want to be strong like you when I grow up." He had said, and Rick felt his heart melt.

"Strong like me, eh?" he said with a laugh, "Yer ol' man ain't that tough."

"Yes you are." Carl corrected him, matter-of-factly. "I'm not young anymore."

Rick held back a smirk as he thought, 'Oh, yes you are.'

"I've seen you in action, Dad." Carl looked back out the window as he spoke, his head held high and sophisticated, "You are one of the strongest men I know. You and Shane."

"Shane's definitely stronger than me." Rick laughed and returned his gaze to the road, but he couldn't hide the proud grin that split his face.

Carl shrugged, "I wanna be strong like you and Shane when I get older." he repeated, "and the clerk from the gas station."

XxxX

Rick pulled up at the farm and he was filled with a strange sort of jealousy. Hershel's home was large and open and it screamed freedom and fresh air and happiness. The thought of going back to an angry home made him feel a little sick.

"Thanks for the ride!" Carl leaped out of the car as it was stopping. He ran to join a large energetic group of tiny teenagers.

Through the crowd, Rick spotted Sophia and the little Beth girl, along with a few more of Carl's friends that had been dragged over to his home after school on the occasion. He smiled fondly at a memory of one of Carl's birthday parties a few years back.

"You staying long?" Hershel was standing next to his car, eyes cautious, but warm. His voice was unique, hardened with age and long years of drinking. From what Rick had heard, though, alcohol was no longer a staple food for the old man.

"No." Rick leaned back in his seat and rolled the window down the rest of the way so Hershel could lean in. "I have to get back and talk to Lori."

"You two fighting again?"

Rick was a bit taken aback. He didn't know the arguments with his wife were notorious enough to be know to the aloof man.

"I can see it on your face." Hershel clarified, "You have the look of a worn down man."

The officer smiled dryly over to Hershel, "A bit of an understatement." he tried to joke. It sounded cold, even to Rick's ears.

Hershel smiled at him sympathetically, a knowing glint in his eye, "Ya know, you're welcome to stay for a bit. I need someone to help me keep all of these kids in line."

Rick seriously considered to offer. To sit on the porch of this beautiful, old farm and watch his kid play and bathe in the free air would be nothing short of perfect.

"I can't." he thought of leaving Lori to simmer in her rage. "I have to get home."

"I know, son." Hershel sighed, shrugging as his 'get out of jail free' card was passed up by the cop. "I know."

XxxX

Sure enough, after Rick arrived home he found Lori tense with anger. He slipped onto the couch beside her and gently massaged her shoulders. "Lori-" He began softly, but he was interrupted.

"Don't, Rick." Lori pushed him away and got to her feet, towering over her husband, "I want you to be behind me."

"Behind you?"

"I want you to support me a hundred percent of the time." Lori answered, "I want to know that my husband stands by all of my decisions."

"Of course I do." Rick smiled reassuringly, "You know that."

"I don't."

Rick stopped and stared at Lori. He felt confused and uncertain and the wet glint in his wife's eyes made him uncomfortable. "Why not?"

"I don't trust that we still feel the same way."

"Feel the same way about what?" Rick opened his arms, almost as if trying to show Lori that he had nothing to hide.

"I want..." The brunette was in tears, and Rick tentatively reached out to hold her. She took a long deep breath to control herself and then met her husband's eyes.

"Lori, I-"

Lori slapped his hand to the side, pulling in on herself as if she was scared Rick would hurt her. Or she would hurt herself. "I want this marriage to work." she croaked.

"Wha-?" Rick stuttered, "Why? Why would you say that out of the blue? Do you think it's not working?"

The woman folded in on herself, using the kitchen table for support as she held back a sob. Rick felt panic shoot through him. He hadn't the slightest clue as to why Lori was acting this way, this dramatically. Was it something he did? Something he said?

"Lori what's going on?" Rick was at her side in an instant, preening and prodding at her worriedly, "Our marriage is fine. We're fine. Everything is fine. I know we've been through some tough things recently,"

"I think you should go, Rick." Lori's voice was calculated. Almost as if she had been waiting to say those words for a long time.

Rick was left breathless. He felt like he had been punched in the gut. He felt like he was going to be sick. "Lori?" He asked voice shaking, "Is this about Carl? I can go pick him up if you like? Do you want me to go pick him up?" His voice was edging close to hysteria, but the rest of his body still held strong and calm.

"Go get a hotel for the night, Rick. I need a break."

In a wave of desperation, Rick reached out to brush his hand through Lori's hair, but her defenses whipped up and smacked the limb intruding into her personal bubble. "I'm sorry. I'm not sure what I did, Lori, but I'm sorry."

"Please, Rick. Just go." Lori walked to the front door and pulled it open. She watched the floor as if it had something really, really interesting to tell her. "We'll talk in the morning."

Rick sputtered and gasped for a minute, and for a moment, his brain tried to tell him that this was a joke, some practical gag that Lori was playing on him. He tried to tell himself that if he waited a bit longer, Shane would jump out of the closet with a camera and his best friend and his wife would laugh at him for believing such a silly lie. But, reality slapped him hard in the face.

"Go." Lori ordered.

Rick left. He stopped right outside and glared down at the welcome matt. As the door slammed shut behind him, he tried to think of any reason why Lori would be acting like this out of nowhere. What the hell had brought on this sudden solitude between him and his wife? But his mind could only sum up with a single thought.

_'Let's drink.'_

XxxX

He was sitting in his truck. A twelve pack of beer on his lap and a bottle full of a much harder liquor on the passenger seat beside him. Rick wasn't in his cop car, and for that he was grateful. He didn't think he could handle the police radio announcing that everyone else in the world had bigger problems than him.

In a strange way, though, he wished he still wished he was sitting in his squad's car because even after all this time, it still smelled like Daryl Dixon. Rick was man enough to admit that it was that faint scent that had gotten him through some rather tough days at work. It wasn't something he was anywhere near dissecting, all he knew, and all he had to know, was that he craved that smell more than anything at that moment.

Rick wondered if it was worth going over to the police station to pick up his car.

He stared out of his window at the other vehicles in the parking lot and all of the stores in the strip mall. There was a bar a few buildings over and it was so tempting to just head over and drink himself into a stupor.

But, he had already called a nice hotel and made reservations for the night. He didn't want to arrive drunk. He had already made a fool of himself plenty that night.

"Just get shit faced," the devil on Rick's right shoulder hissed into his ear, "You deserve it after all that's happened tonight. Just get shit faced and pass out on the street."

"Alcohol isn't what you should be confiding in." the angel corrected, shooting a disapproving look at Satan's partner in crime.

Rick laughed somberly to himself as he imagined a conversation between the two imaginary beings. He had never done it before, but it certainly distracted him from the problem at hand.

Eventually, the cop sighed and looked out the window again, abandoning the sad little conversation in his head.

It was a beautiful night already. Stars glimmered lightly in the vast darkening blue of the sky and the moon was making it's ghostly appearance as the sun ducked it's own head down below the horizon. Purples and reds clashed together at the edge of the world. It was like looking at a large breathtaking painting.

Rick shifted in the driver's seat, listening to the leather squawk awkwardly in protest. He tried to decide if the nagging in his head could be quieted by the radio, but it didn't take long to figure that it wouldn't be a proper distraction. He needed something to take his mind off today's events completely. He no longer wanted to sit alone in his truck thinking about Lori and Carl and... everything.

Perhaps if he drove into a nearby lake?

The idea was silly and cast aside immediately into the 'I'm only angry' pile to sort through later.

And almost as if sensing his desperation, fate played a funny trick on him. A shadow caught his attention, a black shape that was thrown over him and the dash board and steering wheel in front of him. Three distinct clicks came from the window, the sound of finger nails against glass.

Rick's head swiveled over to look out to his right, coming face to face with a chest, just above his eye level. It was toned and smooth and covered in a teasingly tight shirt.

A head dipped down, revealing entrancing blue eyes. Rick was dumbfounded by their depth and color. Azure, a shade all it's own. A rough hand reached up to tap against the closed window again, but Rick was too numb to reach over and open it yet.

Daryl Dixon.

The cop watched Daryl's lips move, the words muffled and smothered as they tried to get through to Rick, who in turn said, "I... I can't hear you!" right back without thinking that, no, Daryl couldn't hear that he couldn't hear him.

The redneck frowned at Rick's attempts to have a conversation through a, quite literal, locked door. It almost looked like a pout. Rick's lips twitched upwards at the thought and he clicked the button to open the window.

"What are ya doin' sittin' in a parkin' lot?" Daryl asked again once the glass had disappeared into the truck.

"Just..." Rick paused. What was he doing 'sittin' in a parkin' lot', anyway? "Just thinking." he finished.

Daryl was quiet for a second, almost as if he was doing some thinking of his own.

"What are _you _doing in this parking lot." Rick finally asked. He noticed the bandages on Daryl's knuckles were gone, 'time heals all wounds' and what not.

"Jus' went for a walk." Daryl shrugged his shoulders, his shirt riding up a little bit with the action.

"This late in the day?" the cop asked.

He couldn't help but laugh at the way Daryl bristled. The expression on his face something between a toddler who had his toys taken away and a small, wet cat cornered in the back of an alley. The giggles and chuckles Rick couldn't hold back only seemed to anger the redneck further, so he took a moment to regain his calm. They looked each other over, silence only kept at bay by the chirping of a hundred crickets off in the distance.

Rick seemed to have passed whatever evaluation Daryl had going through his head because he relaxed his tense stance and took a deep breath that seemed to sooth him.

"My kid talks about you." Rick decided to start a new subject. He saw the flicker of confusion and then surprise that flashed in Daryl's eyes, "A lot."

"Yers was the boy," the redneck coughed out, for lack of anything better to say, "right?"

"Yeah." Rick smiled again, this time at the bewildered blush on Daryl's cheeks, "Carl. Every time I hear him tell the story of what happened that day it gets a little different. I believe, as of now, you're a superhero, one that could kick Superman's ass."

Daryl laughed, or sighed, or coughed. Rick couldn't tell.

And then, Rick remembered, Carl. He was still at his party.

Rick lunged and grabbed for his phone, he could have sworn he saw Daryl jump from the corner of his eye. No missed messages. "Give me a moment." Rick mumbled as he dialed Hershel's home phone number.

Daryl didn't seem to mind. He reached into the car and tapped against the box of beers, waiting for Rick to give him a nod of approval before he yanked it open and pulled out a can.

The phone rang two and a half times before the old farmer answered, his tone tired, "Hello?"

"Hey, Hershel, it's Rick Grimes." the cop responded, "I'm sorry it's so late, how's Carl?"

"He's great, Rick." Hershel said, "He's over in the other room playing cards with the other kids." Rick could hear him call out to Carl. "I'll put him on."

The officer was slightly, but pleasently surprised that there was still other kids over and he hadn't left his son sitting there awkwardly, "Alright." He listened to the phone being shuffled over to the next person.

"Hey Dad!" Carl called, clearly hyped up with all sorts of sugar and caffeine.

"Hey, Carl. What time should I come pick you up?"

Daryl snapped open his can of beer and sipped at it quietly as he listened to the conversation.

"Can I spend the night?" Carl asked excitedly. Rick could practically see him jumping up and down.

"It's a school night." Rick halfheartedly argued. He didn't know where to take Carl, even if he did pick him up. He couldn't exactly take him home to Lori, and he certainly couldn't bring him to a strange hotel so he could ask a bunch of questions that Rick did't know the answer to.

"Please, Dad!" Carl groaned, "Everyone's staying! Hershel said he was going to drive us over to school tomorrow in his pick-up truck!"

Rick sighed, though he had already given in, "What about a change of clothes?"

"I'll wear the ones I got on now."

"Your mum's not going to be happy about that."

Carl gave a loud hoot when he realized he had won, "Thank you so much!" He cheered and hung up the phone before Rick could get any details from Hershal or change his mind.

Rick just rolled his eyes lovingly, "What a spazz." he muttered.

"Nice kid." Daryl grumbled from behind his beer can. His voice didn't hold any sarcasm or anger. Only sincerity.

"Yeah," Rick smiled at the phone as he tossed it into one of the vacant cup holders, "he's certainly something."

It was peaceful between them again. For a few minutes.

"How's the guy who nearly killed me?"

Rick looked up from his lap to meet Daryl's eyes. He let the question simmer in his head before he answered, "The robber?"

Daryl shot him a look that said, _'Who the fuck else?'_ and Rick almost laughed again.

"He's alive-"

"Damn."

"He's alive," Rick smiled, "He'll be released from the hospital in a few weeks, and after that, it's straight to jail."

Daryl hummed and leaned against the truck, letting his head rest against the edge of the door. He took another loud swig of his beer and shuffled his feet.

"Why don't you come sit down?" Rick asked, patting the passenger seat.

With a raised brow, Daryl turned to face the cop, "I'm not usually one ta get inta cahr's with strangers," He walked around to the other side of the car, none the less. "but, as long as yer offering candy as well."

"Sorry, fresh out of candy." Rick grinned. "Plus, I don't have a van."

"Out of candy _and _no van?" Daryl sighed and shrugged as he pushed the vodka out of the way and slipped into his seat, "I think we'll make it work."

Once the door was shut and the window was closed, Rick could smell nothing but beer and Daryl. He felt his muscles begin to calm as the scent, coupled with the relaxing air around the other man, filled his truck.

Rick reached for a beer of his own.

"You never answered me."

"Hmm?"

After setting his can on the dashboard, Daryl gripped the vodka in one hand and twisted the cap off with his second. He took a long, deep gulp that left Rick impressed. The redneck passed it off to Rick and wiped his mouth, "What're ya doin' in this parkin' lot?"

And like a slap in the face, the reality of the last few hours hit Rick hard. He felt himself tense again. He briefly wondered if Daryl would find it weird if he buried his nose in his jacket and breathed in that tranquilizing aroma.

Yes. He probably would.

"Problems at home." Rick mumbled into his own sip of vodka.

"Go on."

Rick passed the drink and sighed, "No, it's alright. I don't want to bother you with-"

"If it was a bother, I wouldn't have asked."

The sharp, certain drift of his voice made Rick believe him. "It's... It's complicated. Hard to explain..."

"Do I look too stupid to understand?" Rick was worried that he had offended Daryl, but there wasn't even a subtle, underlying irritation in his tone.

"No. You don't."

"Well, I have the brains," Daryl pointed out his forehead with the nose of the vodka bottle, "and the time. So why don't chyu jus' start from tha beginnin'?"

It all spilled out like some sort of word vomit. He could no longer hold back the gush of all the things he had cooped up for the last year or so. He took a deep breath before it all dropped out into the open.

"My marriage might be falling apart." Rick sputtered, "And I'm afraid that it's because I failed. I'm afraid that I'm not going to fix it in time, and most of all, I'm afraid that I might not want to fix it at all. I'm afraid for my son. I'm afraid for my wife. I'm afraid for the life I have been living for the last decade or two and for the life I'm going to have to lead if Lori really leaves me. I'm scared that Carl might follow her. I'm scared of being left to fend for myself, or just being thrown back into the world I don't understand anymore. Daryl. I'm afraid of being alone."

Daryl sipped at the vodka and listened silently. He seemed determined to let Rick get everything out.

"Lori's been pulling away for almost a year. I never wanted to know why. I knew that something was wrong. I knew that if I wanted to know what or who or why it would only be a matter of time before I found out. But I didn't want to know." Rick looked down at his lap, "I dropped Carl off at a sleepover. Some birthday party for a little girl at his school. He was so excited."

"Hmm." was the response Daryl gave him. Something so simple shouldn't have been so reassuring.

"When I got home..." Rick took another much needed breath, "When I got home... she was so angry. So closed off. I was so confused!" He tried to defend himself. He wasn't sure why. "She kicked me out. She told me to get a hotel room. I did. I left. I got a hotel room, and some booze." He motioned to the vodka and beer cans, "I sat out in this parking lot for maybe two hours... before I decided I had to go back. I had to apologize. So I went home."

"Oh, so there's more to this pretty little story." Daryl huffed. He seemed to be teetering towards angry now, and Rick wasn't sure why. Part of him believed Daryl was angry for him. But the rest of his brain argued that that was silly.

Rick forced a smile, "Sorry, it's not that important-"

"Keep going." Daryl moved around on his seat until his back was leaning against the door of the truck and his feet were crossed in front of him. He watched Rick with a calculated look.

"Well, uh..." Rick tried to find his place in his sad tale, knowing deep down that this was a terrible moment to be distracted by those eyes and those legs and that subtle frown. "I got home, and I was worried. The house is never that quiet." he carded a hand through his hair, "I was looking for Lori everywhere," he frantically waved his hands as if to show Daryl just how worried he was, "I heard her in the bedroom groaning. I thought she was hurt."

Daryl took another big swig of the heavy liquor and gave a_ 'I know where this is going' _sigh.

"Shane was in there, too." when the other man shrugged he clarified, "My best friend."

Daryl looked at him incredulously.

Rick remembers feeling the same way. The numbness. The panic. The betrayal. The disgust. They had been going at it as if they were so in love. Like Rick hadn't been kicked out two hours ago. As if this was their house, and their marriage and their love. "I didn't know what to do. But I froze up. When they saw me standing there, in the doorway, they tried to explain. But, I didn't want to hear it. When I tried to leave, Shane grabbed my arm."

"What did you do?" Daryl asked, "Did you punch him in the face? Break his nose? his jaw?"

"I left. They kept trying to talk to me. To explain." Rick's voice lowered with shame, "But, I didn't want to hear it."

"Well," Daryl shrugged, "At least you've got that working fer ya."

"I think I knew."

"That they were goin' at it?"

"Yeah." There was a long pause and Rick didn't know how to fill it. He kind of liked it, though. It was calming and it gave him time to think. They ended up drinking almost every can of beer Rick had, and a good sum of the vodka before Daryl spoke again.

"What do you think of 'er?"

"Of who?"

"Yer wife."

Rick fidgeted with his wedding ring, twisting it around his finger nervously, "She's..." the officer felt like this was some sort of test. If he got the question wrong he'd lose, "She's my best friend."

"That's funny," Daryl leered, "Last I heard yer best friend was fuckin' yer wife behind yer back."

A deflated sigh came from Rick, "Surprisingly," he rallied, "you're not helping."

"Sarcasm is just one more free service I offer." the hick jibbed and took another sip of vodka. Rick tried to pretend that didn't make him smile, if only a little, "Well, do you love 'er?"

The question caught Rick off guard, "Lori? Yes. No. I don't remember... I love her..." Didn't he? "But not the way I used to." Is that right? "I love her like I love the mother of my child." What exactly was he was feeling? "But I don't think I love her the same way I did when I married her."

"So what does that mean for yer marriage?" Daryl looked him in the eyes with a dangerous confidence, "What does that mean for you?"

Rick was starting to feel a little bit more than buzzed as the alcohol in his system started to take effect, but he didn't second guess himself. He leaned forward like he was going to tell a secret and Daryl, eyeing him suspiciously, curved toward him on some curious whim.

Maybe it was those twitching lips, or that steady gaze, or the fine jaw bone and silky brown locks, but Rick was pressed to telling the truth.

"I don't know." ha admitted in a hushed tone, "I... I feel broken."

Daryl released a breath, it tickled Rick's face.

They sat there in silence. Noses inches apart. Just looking at each other and fighting their own personal battles inside their heads. Until, finally, Daryl opened his mouth and slowly, uncertainly whispered, "I can fix that."

Rick wasn't sure he had moved until he had already crashed there lips together. And for a second, there was a moment of bliss. Daryl's lips were softer than they looked, but the rough edge of his stubble grazed against his. He didn't mind. It was a foreign touch, but it felt nice. New. Unique.

Daryl snaked a hand onto his chest, curling his fingers around the dense material of his shirt. He didn't kiss back, though. Rick desperately hoped it was just because of the surprise but the idea was left unbacked and fragile as Daryl shoved him back into the steering wheel awkwardly with the hand clinging to him. The other hand winded back, clenched and crunched into his face with a terrible force. His head cracked against the window.

After the initial shock, Rick looked up to meet Daryl's eyes. He was scared of the loathing and disgust he was sure he would find there. But, it wasn't anger or hatred he found in those beautiful blue orbs, but terror and fear. Rick was left speechless as he watched Daryl try to sink into the car, cowering against the door. And, at that moment, Rick was filled with such rage. He wanted nothing more than to slaughter whoever was the cause of the intense panic and disarray that seemed to bleed off the other man in waves.

Before Rick could ask Daryl any questions or let the thought simmer in his head or even just apologize, the emotions were gone. Covered up by some instinctual survival mask, most likely made out of blood, sweat and tears.

The punch to the face a few moments ago still had Rick's head spinning and ringing, but he was sure Daryl was the one who kissed him this time.

He was cautious at first, reluctant to scare the man off again. Or get punched. He didn't try going a step forward in any way until Daryl was ahead of him.

Rick didn't dare to touch Daryl until the other already had a hand brushing underneath his shirt in an almost playful way. When he did though, he let his hands wander wherever. They tentatively reached out and brushed a few strands of Daryl's hair, letting it fall and adjust against his fingertips. It felt like silk or water or something close to what Rick imagined outer space to be like.

He gently moved his hands to cup the back of Daryl's neck, pulling him closer. Rick tried to adjust to get closer to the source of the giddy butterflies in his belly and was rewarded as Daryl crept closer, letting his lips open just enough for Rick to slip his tongue in. His sudden sensitivity was electric. Rick deepened the kiss, all sharp teeth and tingling tongues.

He let his hands move about aimlessly. Just touching here and stroking there and enjoying the badly hidden shudders coming from the smaller man. His fingers trailed under Daryl's shirt, the younger hissing quietly and moving closer, appreciating how the muscles underneath his dusky skin rippled and caught.

Daryl's eyes were glazed over and gleamed needily like distant frozen lakes. Rick watched them, both overwhelmed and intrigued at how they glistened and sparkled in the light coming off the street lamps above them.

Rick's breath hitched as Daryl pulled away from his lips and nuzzled his teeth in the skin on his neck, kissing and licking it tenderly. Just the touch of this man's tongue thrilled him in ways he hadn't felt since the early years of his and Lori's relationship.

Lori. What would she think of him right now?

Rick yanked away from Daryl sharply, breathless and panting. "Daryl..."

"There better be a pretty god damn good reason why yer stoppin'." the younger threatened, watching him with the intensity of a predator.

"I'm... not sure about this." Rick announced anxiously, "I'm married. I have a kid."

Daryl crawled forward onto his seat until his mouth was brushing against Rick's ear. "She cheated on you." he breathed. "Get angry." he hissed. "Get even." he demanded.

And that was all the convincing he needed. Rick twined his fingers into Daryl's hair and jerked his head away from his ear. He smashed their lips together hungrily, tasting desire, rage, determination and something just Daryl and he yearned to thoroughly investigate every inch of the other man's body.

And then he pulled away again, and Daryl let out a noise halfway between an outraged growl and a desperate moan.

"I don't want to use you as a tool to get even with my wife."

It was true. Rick wasn't at all sure about almost anything at that moment, but he was absolutely positive that he didn't want to hurt Daryl. And if Daryl believed that he was going to screw him and then toss him away like some used condom... Well, that sounded an awful lot like hurting Daryl.

"I don't care how you fuckin' use me, but if you stop one more time, I'm gonna rip yer dick off!" Daryl reprimanded. Rick wasn't sure if he should take his threat seriously.

"But-"

"Shut up."

"Daryl," Rick felt partly uncertain about rushing into this. Whatever 'this' was. Maybe he was just making a rash decision due to the panic that still lingered after finding Shane and Lori together in his bed?

But then Daryl did something a bit unexpected. He reached out cautiously, almost as if he understood Rick's confusions, and lightly touched his jaw with his finger tips. When Rick's mouth fell open slightly, all the commotion in his head silencing, Daryl tightened his grip, laying his whole palm against Rick's cheek and tugging him forward slightly.

They met in the middle. Rick responded willingly.

Their tongues tangled together, and Rick pushed them both forward, laying Daryl's back out on the truck's front bench. His hands traveled down to Daryl's knees, gently bending them up onto the cushion so he could prop himself between the other's legs.

Daryl gave his biggest, brightest smirk. It made Rick feel a little weak. "You jus' gonna fuck me right here in yer truck?" he taunted, rolling his hips seductively as he started to slip out of his shirt.

When Rick stopped this time, he was sure Daryl would hit him again, but was pleasantly surprised when he didn't. He pulled away, sitting back up in the driver's seat and slipping on his seat belt.

"That wasn't me tellin' you ta fuckin' stop!" Daryl yowled.

"I'm taking you over to the hotel room I was telling you about before." Rick explained, "I'm not going to sleep with you in the back of my truck like you're some sort of back ally hooker. I'm going to do this right."

The animosity in Daryl's eyes died down a little, replaced by surprise and a small, but unmistakable blush, "Jus' fuckin' step on it!"

Rick smiled.

Daryl didn't bother to do up his shirt of fix his hair or wipe his mouth. He sat, watching Rick lustfully, distracting him the entire two minute drive.

It was the longest damn ride of his fucking life.

XxxX

They crashed into the suite. Slamming into doors and walls and all sorts of solid objects. Rick didn't even glance out at the beautiful view of the sleeping city only a few feet away.

They bumped into a cute little desk somewhere in between the large, lush bed and the doorway. Feeling a bit impatient, Rick swatted everything off its surface quickly and propped Daryl up onto it, slipping his legs around his waist.

The younger man hummed in approval as Rick slipped his hands up Daryl's shirt and caressed whatever skin he could find. He delicately, if not impatiently, pulled the man's shirt up over his head. In any other situation, he would have laughed at the absurd state of Daryl's hair by this point.

Daryl was too busy trying to unbutton Rick's shirt to notice the smirk on his face, but the smile finally tipped over to laughter once the poor man let out a frustrated huff, "Fuckin' buttons!"

Fearing for his shirt, Rick tried to help Daryl out, he carefully pushed his hands away and worked on undoing the buttons one at a time. "I've got this." he grinned.

Daryl growled at him and reached out, simply tearing the shirt open and letting the buttons fly in every direction.

Rick didn't mind as much as he probably should have.

He attacked Daryl's neck with little kisses and small nips, starting right underneath his ear and going lower each time, until the younger man was squirming against the wall and grunting softly. Rick could get addicted to those sounds.

"Hn," Rick said, "Bed."

By then, there may have been a thousand thoughts going through Rick's head. There may have been none.

XxxX

**A/N-** *Looks around* ... So?... This was my first attempt at, what a friend of mine calls, 'Somewhat Sex'... I'm guessing we don't have to go through how awkward it must have been standing in the lobby all uncomfortable and waiting for a key... Yeah...

On another note, I want to give a special shout out to **writerchick0214**, and those mysterious numbers at the end of yer name... What ever could those stand for? *Ponders* The enthusiasm in our conversations had me kicking my homework aside and finishing the next chapter for you guys! Check out her amazing storys, **You Never Know With Merle Dixon**, which, as you should have gathered, is a Walking Dead fic, and **Makes Me Sick**, a Boondock Saints story with a little Connor/Murphy action, *Coy smirk*. Both are wonderfully written!~

Next chapter falls somewhere along the lines of, 'Everyone just _loves_ the moring after...'


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N-** A warm thank you to **writerchick0214**, **Lost-Stranger**, **Damian Starr**, **yourmelancholywhore**, ** The Emcee**, **Ice Dragon3**, **Silver Mirror**, **HazelAndNut**, and **velvetemr73**! God, just reading and re-reading your reviews made me so damn happy! As a thank you, here is chapter 4! I hope it's to yer liking! It's the least I can do!

Word of the day. ** Hoeski.**

XxxX

"If two wrongs don't make a right, try three."  
_Laurence J. Peter_

XxxX

**Dollface- **

Daryl never slept well on beds that weren't his own, so it surprised, and even startled him a bit, when eyes started to droop and his body relaxed next to this stranger.

He felt so uncomfortably comfortable.

Sure, the hotel was nice. It was the kind of place that had little snacks and miniature alcohol bottles stocked up in the fridge, shampoos and conditioners already up in the showers and carpets almost as soft as the beds. But it was the complete opposite of everything he was used to.

When the cop had told him they were going to a hotel that night, he was expecting rats and chewed bubble gum and rough, angry hands.

It was infuriating.

Why was this man so different from everyone else. What did he see that no one else seemed to.

Daryl shifted against the sleek sheets. He hated those sheets. They clashed hard against his skin. When put next to him, he looked even more flawed, the scars and the little imperfections that raked up and down his body were highlighted. He hated them because they were everything he was not.

Not wanting to look at those mocking sheets any longer, Daryl turned his gaze on the other person in the bed. The man had fallen asleep an hour ago, not long after their round. It sort of surprised Daryl that the cop hadn't kicked him out yet.

The man had a gentle, trusting face, one that Daryl couldn't imagine betraying. He wondered how his wife and best friend were able to do it.

The cop had impossibly blue eyes. Like the sky. Like the sky on a hot summer day. He had noticed them just as he was falling asleep. When the other man was just looking at him, simply looking at him, as if he was the most important person in the world.

Those eyes made his stomach do flips.

He wanted to stay a little longer. He just wanted to lay there and pretend he deserved this. Deserved this expensive suite and those beautiful eyes and these flawless sheets. But, Daryl couldn't pretend that he was entitled to any of it. Because he truely believed he wasn't.

When he stood up, he was silent and kept the bed still. The cop didn't stir. Daryl considered that his first accomplishment of the day.

He slipped on his clothes as he found them, starting with the shirt he had tossed into the bathroom and ending with his boots, which he finally found under the cop's jeans.

Once Daryl was ready to leave, he stood at the end of the bed, watching the man. Somewhere deep, deep down, he hoped the cop would just wake up and look at him again. He waited as long as he could. It could have been seconds, or minutes, or hours, but the cop didn't rouse.

Daryl moved over to the man's side and scanned the officer's face desperately. He knew after tonight he would never see this man again. He may have been kind and gentle, but he was also confused. He had a wife, and a kid and a best friend who wouldn't leave this cop and his honest face and amiable eyes.

He understood that he was a mistake that this cop had made and it didn't hurt. It didn't.

But, he found himself leaning down anyway, pressing his lips softly against the cop's and fiercely trying to leave an invisible mark. And then, Daryl stepped out of the hotel room, leaving the cop and those perfect sheets to compliment each other.

XxxX

Rick woke up alone. The space beside him was cold, but the indent of another human and the distinguishable scent of Daryl Dixon still lingered.

His lips tingled. He reached up to touch them, brushing his fingers softly against the flesh and remembering the night in all it's blurry glory. Rick let his hand graze down his chin to his neck, rubbing out the marked and bruised skin tenderly.

"Damn." he muttered to the ceiling. It didn't respond, but it had enough common courtesy to at least glare down at him accusingly. "What have I done."

Despite all the regret and remorse waging a war inside his head, the satisfaction Rick felt was undeniable. His body hadn't been appeased to this level in quite some time.

Rick just laid there and breathed for a few more minutes, basking in the after glow.

When he finally stood up, he stumbled over to the bathroom, tripping over his shirt and stepping over scattered buttons in the process. He padded onto the tiles, flexing his toes against the cold, hard surface as he started up the shower. The steady drizzle from the nozzle calmed his fraying nerves.

He tried not to look into the mirror until he had finished cleaning the smell of booze and sex off of his skin, but eventually he had to step out from behind the shower curtain and assess the damage.

After wrapping a fuzzy, white towel around his waist, he stared at his reflection. A stranger looked back. In front of him stood a cheater. A bruised and battered cheater that looked happier than Rick had felt in years.

XxxX

There was no hot water. There was never any hot water.

Daryl growled at the shower head as he stepped under the excruciatingly cold spray. His whole body flinched away from it, but eventually he settled into the heavy drizzle.

Goose bumps littered up his arms and down his back in a matter of seconds and no matter how fast he moved he was shivering and numb by the time he stepped out.

His bathroom was dirty and small. It always had been. When he moved into this apartment it was filthy and he had never been the type to clean up after someone else's mess. Maybe one day he would have enough money to pay someone to do it. Maybe one day he would have enough money to get the hell out of here.

He towel dried rather lazily and slipped on the first pair of sweats he found.

Sitting down on the edge of his bed, he rubbed his temples and forehead and neck. His shoulders were tense, but that wasn't unusual. He laid down stiffly against his ratty comforter and shifted until he was on his side. He closed his eyes and tried to imagine that the cop was still sleeping next to him.

Before too long, he fell asleep.

Daryl woke up a few hours later to the chirping of birds, a stream of early morning sunlight dancing across his pillow and a hand around his throat.

Instinctual, he lashed out, clawing at the dark shape of an intruder hovering above him. The swears and threats Daryl tried to fight with were drowned against choking and sputtering and his hands only hit air and fell uselessly to his side.

"What'sa matter, Darlynna?" a cruel voice cooed, "Yer gonna hav ta fight fer yer right to breath!"

"M-Merle,"

"I can't quite hear ya, lil' girl! Ya might wanna speak up!"

"F-fuck..."

"C'mon!" Merle goaded, "Thing's arn't gonna jus' be given to you in yer life, baby brotha, yer gonna have to work fer it!"

Daryl began to panic as the edge of his vision started to blacken and he doubled his efforts to break free. Lashing out with both hands, Daryl was able to graze and gash a handful of deep scores against the arm and shoulder holding him down and even a few along Merle's jaw line. His older brother finally hissed and jumped back when he was caught right under the eye.

Daryl sat up, gulping in air desperately. "What," he gasped, "the fuck... Merle!"

He heard Merle laughing, chuckling at his little brother's expense, "Yer like a girl gettin' 'erself all worked up!"

"Real fuckin' funny, dipshit." Daryl spat out hoarsely. He tried to rub some circulation back into his neck discreetly.

"Don't get cute with me, Darlynna." Merle warned.

Daryl sneered and looked up to meet Merle's nasty gaze. When he noticed the dilated pupils and the unbalanced air about his older brother, warning signals went off in his head.

"Are you high, Merle?" Daryl asked cautiously. Merle had never been a stable man. Drugs never helped with that.

Merle smiled and awful, evil smile, "Why? You got sum sorta policy 'bout lightin' up in yer house or somethin?"

Yes. He did. "Course not." Daryl rolled his eyes, "But, it's only," he looked down at his cheap alarm clock, "six in the mornin'."

Merle only smirked.

"Whut the fuck are ya doin' here this early anyway. I didn't even think you knew this time of day existed."

"I'm in a bit of a pickle, little brotha."

Damn. Daryl knew what those words meant.

"I don't got any money right now, Merle."

Merle's eyes narrowed darkly and then mischievously. It creeped Daryl out how fast his older brother's brain worked when it came to finding out ways to get what he wanted, "Oh, C'mon Darlynna! You must have a couple'a grand layin' 'round here somewhere!"

"Ya took all of ma emergency money last time you was over here." Daryl said bitterly, "I barely had enough fer rent this month."

Merle moved so fast that Daryl didn't notice him until he was right in his face, breathing sick, sour breath onto him. His eyes were wide and a little crazy. Daryl tried not to flinch away.

"I need sum money, baby brotha." Merle hissed in his ear. He crawled onto the bed, pressing himself against his little brother violently.

"Why dont ya jus' sell sum more of yer shit drugs and make a couple grand?" Daryl spoke from behind grit teeth, "Maybe you can hospitalize sum more druggies while yer at it. Two birds with one stone, if I do say so ma'self."

Merle pulled his bony finger's through Daryl's hair. They weren't gentle and pleasant like the cop's were last night.

"I need sum money, Darlynna." Merle wheezed at Daryl, "And I will get it from you one way or another. I'm gonna win this battle. So how we gonna do this?"

So Daryl got him his money. Because Merle wins. Merle always wins.

XxxX

Rick turned his car off and stared up at his house. He never would have guessed that a moment like this would come when he signed all the papers and bought it all those years ago.

It was almost comforting, remembering all the happy times. Remembering the reasons he fell in love with Lori and trusted Shane. Ever since high school it had always just been Lori, Shane and Rick and now, Rick wasn't sure he could just stop being around them.

What would Daryl Dixon do? The concept was kind of funny, but Rick found himself seriously trying to think up a proper scenario. Maybe he would ride in like some heroic cowboy, sweeping his lady off her feet and defeating the competition with one fell swoop. Maybe he would just go ape shit, taking down the ones who betrayed him and barricading himself from the pain of feeling.

Rick felt his head clutter, so he just shook it , trying to physically clear it.

He imagined Daryl would at least be brave enough to go inside and face Lori, so, in order to proof his worth to a man who wasn't there, Rick popped open his car door and headed inside.

The house was obscenely quiet, but Rick was bit too beat down to worry this time.

He closed the door quietly behind him and took a moment to enjoy the air conditioning. After toeing off his shoes, Rick wandered into the living room, heading for the master bedroom with high hopes of changing his ruined shirt.

He heard someone clear their throat behind him. At any other time, Rick would have whirled around and taken up a defensive stance, but today he was tired and sad. He looked around slowly, eyeing Shane and Lori leisurely.

"Rick," Lori whispered. Rick could almost feel the regret in her tone.

Shane was standing in front of the love seat that Lori sat on, his face twisted with a cocktail of emotions. He cleared his throat again and watched his best friend.

"What happened to your eye." Lori motioned to her own face awkwardly.

Rick reached out to touch his black eye. He didn't think answering, 'Daryl Dixon punched me in the face when I forced myself on him last night.' would go too well. "Bar fight." he lied smoothly.

"And your shirt?" Shane asked, "It looks like it was ripped open."

Telling the truth didn't sound too tempting here either, so Rick shrugged, "I couldn't get the buttons down last night, so I compromised. If you'll excuse me." Rick muttered, ignoring the gasp and grunt the other two let out at his calm and casual demeanor. He turned back to wandering towards his - Lori's bedroom.

"Rick," Shane took a few cautious steps towards him but stopped, "we need to talk."

"Talk about what?" Rick snapped, "How you betrayed me? How you slept with my wife behind my back for months? How my wife kicked me out of my own home last night so she could have sex with you?"

"Yes." Shane sighed guiltily, "We need to talk about all of that."

"Fantastic."

"I can explain myself, Rick." Lori stood up, running a hand through her long, brown hair. It had been a nervous tic of hers since college. Rick wondered if Daryl had any nervous tics.

"Then explain yourself."

Lori swallowed the lump in her throat, "I kicked you out last night... because I found out something... big... and I just freaked out."

Rick tried not to frown at his wife. He was certainly getting curious, but he was also feeling distressed and awkward and just a tad bitter.

"I'm... Rick, I'm..." Lori seemed to be having trouble just spitting it out, so Shane took over, placing a hand on her shoulder for support.

"Lori's pregnant, Rick."

"That's why I freaked out." Lori leaned into Shane's touch.

Rick ran a hand over his forehead and breathed deeply into his cupped palms, trying to get a grip on the situation. "You..." He carded his fingers through his hair, down his neck and bare chest until he had his hand on his hip. "You're pregnant?" he blinked.

Lori nodded and let her eyes flick between Shane and her husband remorsefully.

Trying not to panic, Rick reached out for something solid to hold onto. He grasped onto the side of the table just as his legs began to feel like jelly. His heart was racing at an unhealthy rate and for some odd reason he couldn't think well.

"Who's... who's is it?" Rick was finally able to bark out.

Lori's eyes hit the floor and not even Shane was able to look him in the eye.

"I... don't know..."

"Well, how far along are you?"

"The doctor said about four weeks."

"That's around our anniversary." Rick was trying hard to push away the cotton in his head and do math, "Isn't it?"

Lori bit her lip, "Yeah,"

It clicked, "You slept with my wife on our anniversary!"

"You did too!" Shane held up his hands defensively.

"Well," Rick frowned, "that makes it all better."

"You're right." Shane rubbed the bridge of his nose, "I'm sorry."

The room became awkward and silent. Rick didn't know what to say that would comfort his wife and friend but he didn't want to say anything anyway.

Rick pulled out a chair from the table and collapsed into it. Unsure of what else to do, he buried his face in his hands and listened to Lori and Shane shuffle into the love seat. They just waited there for hours, listening to each other breath.

Carl kicked in the front door a couple hours later and threw his backpack to the side, letting it land wherever. He ran into the living room, completely oblivious of the tension, and jumped into the chair next to is father.

He flapped a piece of paper in Rick's face until he took it.

"I got an A on my science essay, Dad." Carl smirked, holding his head up pridefully, "You remember the deal we made?" The kid stopped as he got a good look at his father's face, "Woah! Nice shiner, Dad!"

Rick glanced at his son but gave no explanation. He looked down at the paper and scanned through the scribbled notes.

"Good job on your essay, kid." Shane praised from his corner of the couch.

"How was school, Carl?" Lori smiled stiffly.

"So much fun! Thanks for letting me spend the night at Hershel's!"

Lori shot Rick a look that said he would have been in trouble if she wasn't balancing so delicately on the hook herself.

"Any time, sweetheart." Lori said.

"Really?" Carl jumped at the expression, "Can I go over there this weekend? Hershel said-"

"We'll see." Lori interrupted him.

Carl turned his sights on his father again, grinning toothily, "You remember our deal?"

"Yeah, yeah." Rick stood up, holding his shirt together as best he could, "Let me just get a new shirt on and we'll go out to eat anywhere you want."

Carl cheered and started listing off his favorite restaurants.

When Rick came back sporting a new collared shirt, Carl had already decided.

"I heard my friends talking about a really epic restaurant a couple miles from here! They said they had an arcade there and everything! I wanna go there!" Carl explained.

"What do they sell?" Rick asked as he rolled the sleeves of his shirt up to just below his elbows.

"Everything!" the kid exclaimed, "They have anything you could ever ask for! They even deliver their pizzas 'cause they're so good!"

"Then why don't we just order one of their pizzas and stay in?" Lori shrugged.

"No!" Carl jumped up, "I wanna check out their arcade!"

Rick smiled and patted him on the head, "Alright, do your home work and we'll head over there for dinner."

Carl cheered and posed heroically, "And Shane's coming, too, right?"

Rick hesitated, but not long enough for his son to notice, "Of course."

XxxX

The restaurant looked a lot nicer than what Rick had been expecting. Though, he had been picturing some back alley version of _Chuck-E-Cheese's_ since Carl had mentioned an arcade.

It was actually presentable. A place that both kids and adults could enjoy themselves.

There was a large dining room with nice, sturdy booths and smooth, clean tables. There was a bar in the back with an array of good beers and expensive wines. The arcade was over in the corner of the building, walled out to barricade the dining room from most of the noise kids were known to make and the whole place was painted with warm, welcoming shades of peach and blue.

It was a bit crowded, not to an uncomfortable level, but enough to prove that the joint had a good reputation and the waiters seemed to all radiate happiness and gratification.

"Table for how many?" a kind, clear voice interrupted Rick from evaluating the place any further.

Rick glanced down at the small, Asian man and smiled as best he could, "Uh, four, please."

The young man smiled back easily and he wrote some things down before leaning over his counter and grinning at Carl, "Do you want a kid's menu and some Crayons?"

"Umm," Carl shrugged, "Sure." Lori patted him over the head and Carl quickly jumped to finish with, "Thank you!"

"Of course." the man said as he picked up three regular menus, a kid's menu and a packet of Crayons. "Would you like a booth or table?"

"Booth." Shane jumped in, "Somewhere close to the arcade so we can keep an eye on Carl here." He ruffled Carl's hair.

"Alright, we've got a few booth's free, no problem." the man led them into the dining room, weaving around the other customers and tables with grace, "I'm Glenn by the way, if you need anything or you don't see your waiter around feel free to yell and I'll come running."

Rick smiled gratefully at Glenn when he glanced back to see if they had heard him.

Glenn brought them over to a booth and set up the menu's, making sure that Carl had picked a spot before placing down his. "A waiter will be around to take your drink orders in a matter of minutes, so sit tight!" he chimed and bustled off into the crowd.

"Can I go play in the arcade now!" Carl asked immediately staring over the table to look at his father hopefully.

"Wait until we've ordered our food, then you can play." Lori sighed, "You don't want to confuse the waiter."

Rick and Shane both nodded their agreement.

Carl physically deflated and almost toppled out of his seat, Rick was tense and ready to catch him just in case, but the kid was able to steady himself and pout in a less dangerous manner.

As Carl went on to rant about his lack of freedom, Rick sat back and let his eyes roam around the room. The windows were large and let in a lot of natural light, the carpets were near spotless and well kept, some of the walls had a beautiful hand crafted pastern etched into them, the temperature was comfortable, the food looked and smelled mouth wateringly delicious and that was Daryl Dixon, standing next to the kitchen doors and quietly bickering with another waiter.

Rick choked in air and tried not to look too panicked when Shane, Lori and even Carl sent him a curious or concerned look.

"I need to... uh... use the bathroom." Rick stumbled to his feet and cursed his terrible, terrible luck.

"Are you alright, Rick" Shane moved to slide off the bench after him, but Rick waved him off.

"I just need a minute. Have to use the bathroom." Rick wasn't listening to himself talk anymore, so he could have been just muttering Gibberish, but he held back a sigh of relief as Shane nodded uncertainly and settled back down.

Rick walked over to the kitchen as quickly as he could, trying not to make a scene of himself. He threw his head back to make sure no one at his table was watching before streaking over to Daryl. Daryl hadn't noticed him yet, being too preoccupied crossing his arms over his well built chest and rolling his luring blue eyes.

As Rick got closer, he kept having inexplicable urges to roll under tables and hide behind other customers. He certainly had enough time to duck out of the restaurant entirely.

His stomach was twisting in knots of anxiety. He wasn't sure why he was feeling so nervous. Maybe it was because of the recent news, a noxious blend of finding out his wife and best friend were going at it like rabbits behind his back and that his wife was fertile with, most likely, another man's baby. Maybe it was because he had recently found out that he was a weak enough man to sleep with a total stranger in the mix of a crises and his sexuality was now in question. Maybe it was because he was a few feet away from standing in front of the man who was either screwing everything up or keeping him together. Maybe it was everything.

His body held miraculously firm despite his internal melt down. He had to thank all his years of police training for that.

Daryl looked so confident, so sure, so unattainable and Rick was tempted to just duck and roll out of sight all over again.

And then Daryl looked over and met his eyes. He had a horrible knack for doing that at the most inopportune moments.

Rick tried to look like he knew what he was doing, but in the end just prayed he wouldn't trip, fall over and make a complete fool out of himself as he traveled the last few steps to Daryl's side. They just stared at each other and Rick clamped his mouth shut so his jaw wouldn't fall open with all the combined shock today had chucked at him.

"What are you doing here, Daryl?" Rick strangled out.

Daryl narrowed his eyes and motioned down to his uniform with a displeased huff, "If it's not too obvious, I work here."

"You told me you worked two jobs!"

"If I remember correctly, which I do, you were tha one tha' said I worked two jobs." Daryl retaliated, "I work two, officially, but bein' a clerk at tha' gas station is ma brotha's job. I jus' take over fer him when he's busy."

"And how often is that?"

"Often." Daryl confirmed with a scoff.

"So you work three jobs a day?" Rick's eyes widened.

"If life was easy I could get away with only havin' one."

"Listen, can we talk?"

"We are talkin'." Daryl sneered at him suspiciously.

Rick smiled to show Daryl he meant no harm, "Somewhere private."

"Why."

"I just," Rick threw a look over his shoulder again to confirm that Shane and Lori hadn't noticed him or Daryl before grabbing the man and dragging him into the men's bathroom, "need to talk to you." Daryl ripped his arm away from Rick as soon as they were through the doors, backing up a few steps and glaring at the cop with a ferocity reserved for wild animals.

The bathrooms were just as clean and welcoming as the rest of the restaurant. The walls were striped with pearly white and seashell blue. The clashing colors calmed Rick a bit.

"Daryl," Rick said, moving forward. Daryl leapt back two feet for every one Rick took so he stopped moving and let the other man calm down. "Daryl," He repeated.

"I get it." Daryl spat, "Don't worry, you don't have to say anything."

"Daryl, wha-"

"You only slept with me 'cause you didn't want ta be alone. I get it." The words stung at Daryl's tongue more then he would ever admit and he leaned against the wall for support, "I understand. Ya got yer wife, yer kid and even yer fucked up best friend back. Ya don't need me anymore-"

"You saw them?" Rick gapped.

"I saw ya come in, yeah."

"I didn't... know. You didn't say anything."

"Course not. Why would I of? I have nuthin' ta say to them."

"You looked so calm."

Daryl wrinkled his nose and shuffled his feet at the back handed compliment, "Are we done talkin' now?"

Rick tried to meet the shorter man's eye, but Daryl kept looking away, "If you want this conversation to be over, then yes, we're done talking now." When Daryl didn't respond, Rick took the initiative and stepped over to the door, "I'm sorry that I made you feel like you meant nothing to me." he mumbled as he twisted his fist around the handle, "I know I've only known you for a couple weeks, so I must sound completely insane to you, but the last thing I wanted to happen was for you to walk away thinking something like that."

Rick figured that as soon as he opened the door he would never see Daryl Dixon again and the thought was making his chest constrict in a painful way. Even the butterflies in his stomach withered.

"I'm only sixty percent sure your name is Rick." Daryl muttered as he inched forward, his body language cold, but eyes panicked. "I don't know anythin' 'bout you and you know nothin' 'bout me. I don't think I wanna change that."

"But, you're thinking about it, aren't you?" Rick questioned hopefully. Daryl didn't answer but the look on his face made Rick feel oddly optimistic. "You're right, by the way." he said after a while.

"Right 'bout what?" Daryl said under his breath, just loud enough for the taller man to hear.

"My name _is _Rick." he left the door, reaching out to shake hands with Daryl, "Rick Grimes."

Daryl wrinkled his nose, eyed Rick's outstretched hand and then tentatively took it, "Daryl Dixon."

"It's nice to formally meet you." Rick kept Daryl's grasp in his, soaking in the guarded warmth radiating off the other man's hand. When the contact lasted, Daryl focused on him with an uncertain gaze and that look lit fires in Rick that he couldn't explain.

Rick brushed his fingers against Daryl's wrist, caressing the surprisingly soft skin. He felt a shiver run up the shorter man and another spark of something foreign brightened Rick up. Craving another jolt, Rick leaned forward, pressing himself up against Daryl. Daryl backed up a few inches until his back was up against the wall and Rick followed him there.

Daryl stiffened as the gears visibly clacked around in his head. Rick let him think, giving him a moment to process everything. As he did, Rick just kept his hands on Daryl, his touch light as he cradled the smaller man's body against his own.

After coming to some sort of conclusion, Daryl looked up, "Yer wife and kid's waitin' outside."

"They can wait."

"Yer married. What tha hell are ya doin' cornering another man in a restaurant bathroom."

"I've been asking myself the same question." Rick sighed, stopping to listen to Daryl's erratic heartbeat.

Daryl bit his lip and sneered, "And what did you come up with?"

"Nothing." Rick breathed.

"I don't usually talk this much." Daryl admitted, probably more to himself than Rick.

Rick liked Daryl's voice. A lot. It was a simple melody of rough and tough and a pleasant underlying feminine quality that made Rick's head spin. "You should talk more often."

Daryl grunted nervously but met his smile defiantly with a frown only Daryl could wear so proudly.

"I like your voice." Rick whispered to fill the silence. He leaned forward, to get a better look at his face, he had told himself. "I like your eyes."

"You should get back to yer family before they worry."

Rick ignored Daryl's comment and reached up to sweep the pad of his thumb over the other man's mouth, "I like your lips."

"Yer family is-"

Rick replaced his thumb with his mouth, pecking Daryl's lips with a soft, careful kiss. When Daryl clenched his fist Rick had to keep himself from flinching, afraid that he had gone to fast and the brown haired man against him was about to retaliate again. Daryl didn't strike out though, he didn't panic either and Rick was left breathless with relief, "I'm sorry," he said softly.

Daryl kept quiet again, beautiful blue orbs flickering with emotions Rick could not recognize.

"I wanna see you again." Rick confided, "I have no idea what I'm doing. I'm married. I have a kid. More then anything, though, I wanna see you again."

A somber serious look flashed over Daryl's face, mixed with it came doubt, uncertainty, anger, hurt and shock. When he opened his mouth, Rick expected to be blown off, shoved to the side and left alone to wallow in the bathroom. "I'll see what I can do."

That was as close to a yes as Rick imagined he would ever get, so he smiled. A large, happy smile.

"I'm sorry 'bout yer eye, by tha way."

"Is it really that bad?" Rick chuckled as he reached out to touch his bruise.

"Yeah."

XxxX

**A/N-** OKAY! I wrote out this chapter and it ended up being over 10,000 words long so I cut in half. Here is the first half and I will upload the second half in a couple of days! Sound good?  
Thank you so much for reading and I'll post part 2 soon!


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N-** Part 2 of the long ass chapter I wrote!

Special thanks to **The Emcee**,** writerchick0214**,** RejectedShyRebel18**, **Damion Starr**, **Ice Dragon3**,and** velvetemr73**! I got two review emails that told me 'This message trancuated due to length. To view in full, please visit site' and you guys just make it too god damn easy to love writing! Thank you so much! You guys don't have to spend all this time reviewing, but you do and it makes me happy! So here's to you guys!

XxxX

"In love, there is always one who kisses and one who offers the cheek."  
_Unknown_

XxxX

**Dollface-**

"And that's the story of how me and Sophia got the school librarian to quit!" Carl finished up his story proudly, smiling at the contorted looks of shock and humor on his mother and Shane's face.

"I don't know whether I should be proud or horrified at the deviousness you hide in that little head of yours." Lori held back a smile and ruffled her son's hair.

"I know I'm proud." Shane laughed, "If I was that evil back in middle school I would have raised hell. My teachers are lucky I didn't develop that skill until high school."

Carl grinned, "I guess I'm more advanced than you!"

"I guess you are kiddo." Shane responded, patting Carl's head childishly. "You win this round."

"Can I go play in the arcade now?" Carl whined, stretching his arms out over the table, bumping the tightly wrapped silver wear and his father's menu out of place.

Lori reached over to fix the mess out of habit, "I told you to wait until the waiter takes our dinner orders and I stand by that."

"Where's the waiter then." Carl huffed.

"And where's Rick?" Shane slid out of the booth and glanced around, "He's been gone awhile."

"Leave him be, Shane." Lori said sympathetically, "He's probably just... thinking everything over. He hasn't had a chance to do that yet."

Shane looked over at Lori for a few seconds before shrugging, "I think I should go check on him, is all."

"What does Dad have to think about?" Carl asked.

"Nothing. Lori answered, keeping her eyes on Shane. "If you want to check on Rick be my guest, but I think he should be left alone for now."

Shane smiled at her encouragingly, "I'll just be a minute."

As Shane pushed off the table in search of his best friend, Rick exited the bathroom, fixing his shirt and scanning the dining room with exclusive eyes. He met Shane's fixed stare with one of his own as he paraded himself across the restaurant to their table.

Rick seemed proud. He had an air about him. Like he had just beat the boss in a video game Shane hadn't even bought yet. So smug. Shane was about to ask him about it but he was waved into his seat.

"Now that we're all here," Carl interrupted the silence, "Let me tell you about the time me and Sophia played a prank on the school bully."

XxxX

Daryl waited a few more awkward moments after Rick left before he followed. Sauntering out of the bathroom, he edged his way out of the hallway and into the dining area.

The place was suffocatingly crowded, in a way that most people would find comfortable, but it got under Daryl's skin. Large amounts of people really just rubbed him the wrong way. And maybe being a waiter at a nice restaurant was not the ideal job for the socially corrupt Dixon, but it paid.

"Daryl! someone called out, "What are you doing!" It was Glenn, frantically waving his arms and pushing his way over to Daryl's side."You have another table in section five! They've been seated for a while and they haven't gotten their drinks!"

"Section five?" Daryl grunted and mentally examined the map in his head to find out which one of the many stockades he would be working at."Fuck."

"Yeah, I mean you should totally get over there before the boss finds out and-"

"I need a favor."

"Wow," Glenn smirked in the kind way that only he could, "it's not every day that Daryl Dixon calls in a favor."

"Can you take that table for me?" Daryl's front teeth kneaded at his lower lip as he stared at his new table. Rick and his wife and kid and best friend were all gathered together there.

"Sorry, man!" Glenn smiled apologetically, "I wish I could but I cant. I'm swamped already, I'd switch but most of my tables are finishing up and I have to go make some deliveries in half an hour."

Daryl sneered, "Whatever, Chinaman."

"I told you!" Glenn frowned and watched Daryl storm off, "I'm Korean!"

XxxX

When Daryl approached the table, Rick's family looked up to greet him with unfamiliar smiles. Rick's eyes, though, were plagued with a reserved hesitation, but some part of them were sparkling with a confident spunk and it kept Daryl's backbone straight and chin level. It was a mystery how the man could bring out that side of him so easily.

The kid was beaming up at him, perking himself up once he laid eyes on Daryl. It was an odd sensation, being admired by a child, especially so blatantly. He shuddered under the urge to puff out his chest and look the part.

Rick's wife was a beautiful woman, in a sassy way. She seemed the type to be able to stand her own ground, strong willed and mamma bear material. Daryl had to remind himself that she was a cheating slut.

The other man was staring at him, his conceited jaw line angled up and his eyes glinting with something animalistic. Shane, Daryl guessed.

Daryl tried not to look too put off as he flipped open his notepad and clicked open a pen, "What can I get ya guys ta drink?" He could see Shane smirking and it took most of his self control not to reach over the table and strangle the guy.

"What do you have on tap?" Shane asked with a simper. He was so obviously thinking things that should have earned him a broken nose.

"We have all kinds of beer. Take yer pick."

"Then I'll just take a Pale Ale." Shane said, "You got any of that?"

"Yeah, we got plenty of that." Daryl answered tensely, "And you?"

Lori smiled uncomfortably up at him, "I'll just take a nice red wine."

"What kind?"

"Surprise me."

The kid was still radiating delight when Daryl looked over at him, "Wha'bout you, lil' man?"

Giving his most sophisticated look, the kid shrugged, "I'll just take a water."

The three adults at the table sputtered with laughter or shock and Daryl assumed that this was odd behavior. Seemed the kid was trying to impress him with a big boy drink.

"Jus' water, eh?" Daryl wrote it down glanced up from his pad to watch the kid. He seemed quite proud of himself.

Rick looked at his son fondly, admiring the courage and the attempt to impress his local superhero. He turned his head to meet Daryl's eye, smile still pulling on his lips, "I'll take a Fat Tire."

"Sounds good." Daryl murmured, writing it all down and trying not to look at Rick too much. "I'll be right back with your orders. He left with out looking back.

XxxX

"Who would have guessed the hero of the month was nothing more than a freakin' waiter." Shane laughed with his whole body, throwing his head back and giggling childishly once Daryl was out of hearing range.

"Be careful Shane," Carl cooed almost protectively, "He'll kick your ass!"

"Language." All three adults barked with outrage, anger and a sprinkle of amusement.

Carl just smiled smugly and fiddled with his silverware, throwing excited looks over his shoulder occasionally.

Rick flipped open his menu and pretended to scan through it, just listening to the silence that fell over their little table. It was uncomfortable, not like the quiet that came with Daryl. He kind of already missed Daryl.

Rick knew his family well enough to know that this silence wouldn't last, especially when someone felt guilty. It was only a matter of time before Shane or Lori brought up something unrelated to try and get him talking again.

"Hey, Rick," Shane said, turning in his booth a bit to face him comfortably, "You find anything good on our new case, cause none of the leads I've been looking into are digging anything up."

There it was. A subtle conversation starter to check to see if Rick was still functioning correctly. Shane had used the tactic since college.

"No, Shane." Rick didn't look up from his menu, "I haven't found a lot of time to interrogate most of the suspects we have, but the ones I have don't seem very promising."

Shane hummed, "Alright. Have any other ideas on where we can look? It seems most of the druggies over dosing on the shit drugs are in the down town area, so maybe if we did a stake out?"

"No, I think just talking to the informants we have placed in that area should do just as well." Rick said flipping the menu in his hands over to get a good look at the restaurant's long list of wines.

Before any awkwardness could settle Daryl came back, balancing five drinks on a little tray. The table fell silent again but at the very least it was a bit more casual.

Daryl set the drinks out for each person. "I gotcha Blackstone Merlot," he told Lori as he placed her glass of wine in front of her, "And," he turned to Carl, setting down his cup of water and a Coke, "I poured a Cola for some guy, but he left. he lied, "You can have it if you want. On the house."

Carl smiled and toyed with his straw, "Yeah, sure. Thanks."

Daryl flipped open his note pad again and set the tray to the side, "You guys know what ya wanna eat?"

Shane answered, his face once again twisted in amusement, "How fresh is your fresh salmon?"

"It's pretty fresh." Daryl snipped.

"Then I'll take that." Shane handed over his menu and rolled his eyes.

Lori simply said, "I'll take the seafood and wild mushroom soup." and tossed him her menu.

Daryl caught it and turned to Carl raising an eyebrow curiously at the way the kid puffed out his chest, "I'll take a T-bone cut of steak with a baked potato on the side, thank you."

Carl's parents choked back laughter and Rick felt a little bad correcting his son in front of his savior, "Carl, that's a lot of food, do you think you can eat all that?"

The kid blushed beat red and nodded furiously, "Of course!"

"That's really expensive. How 'bout you just order something off the kid's menu?" Lori sighed.

Carl looked down at his menu and tried to subtly hide his Crayons, "No, I wanna steak."

"Carl." Lori warned.

"Fine!" Carl huffed, seething with anger at being embarrassed in front of Daryl, "I'll have a burger."

Daryl scribbled the orders down and turned back to the kid, "You want curly fries or regular?"

Carl hid his blushing, red face in his hands, after a second he lifted himself up and crossed his hands over his chest nonchalantly, trying to regain some dignity, "Regular."

"Alright." Daryl mumbled.

"Wait!" Carl jumped, "I meant curly."

Daryl nodded and turned to Rick, "An' you?"

"What do you suggest?" Rick smiled, doing something with his eyebrows that made Daryl cough awkwardly. Rick had a coy look on his face, one that said, 'Come closer' and Daryl was starting to believe that this was his version of illusive flirting.

"Food." Daryl responded, having none of it.

"Yeah?" Rick smirked, "What kind?" Lori eyed Rick curiously and Shane held back a snicker, probably just assuming Rick was messing with him.

"I would suggest somethin' from tha edible arrangements." Daryl grunted.

"What's your favorite thing to eat here?"

"I don't eat here." Daryl responded snidly, "I work here."

"He'll take the teriyaki chicken." Lori interrupted, gathering up Rick's menu and passing it to Daryl, "Thank you very much."

"Thank you." Rick echoed shiftily.

Daryl stepped away from the table and dived into the crowd before Rick moved up from the flirting.

"Can I go play in the arcade now?" Carl grumbled, his ego still a little sore.

"Yeah." Lori patted his shoulder and dug a couple dollars from her purse."Go hand this to the guy at the counter and ask for quarters.

Carl leapt from his seat and zoomed out of sight before anyone could change their mind. Rick smiled at the endless amount of energy coming from his boy.

"I think we should talk about the baby."

The memory smacked Rick in the face coldly, "Yeah, Lori. We should talk about the baby."

So they talked about the baby. It took awhile but they finally came to a conclusion.

"So if it's mine I will stay with you, Lori and we will raise this baby together." Rick said, "And you will stop seeing Shane."

"And if it's mine..." Shane looked into his empty beer glass with glazed over eyes.

"Then I will leave Lori."

"And you and I will raise this baby together." Lori whispered to Shane. She glanced between the two men in front of her with such a sad look on her face. Rick almost wanted to comfort her.

"And what about Carl?" Shane asked.

"If Lori and I divorce then we will agree on split custody." Rick took a deep drink of alcohol and thanked it quietly for the provided numbness.

Why was this so easy? Rick had been asking himself over and over again since they had come to a conclusion. Why was it so easy for him to accept all this news now?

"What do we tell Carl?" Lori asked.

Rick's lips pulled into straight line, "We should tell him that there's a baby on the way, but we should leave out anything unnecessary."

"Like the affair?" Shane asked and everyone winced.

"Yeah." Rick nodded.

And then, Daryl was there again, passing out plates of food that steamed up and smelled delicious and made Rick smile for some odd, unknown reason. Daryl looked at him from the corner of his eye and silently asked him questions he wanted so badly to answer. He didn't. He kept quiet and listened to Lori call Carl over.

In a matter of seconds, Carl was flopping down in his seat and smiling impishly up at Daryl. "I got over a hundred tickets," the kid announced proudly smirking over at his father and then glancing up at the waiter to make sure he had heard.

"That's nothing!" Shane grinned, "When your father and I were kids we went over to the arcades and won three thousand tickets in one day. We got the big water blaster from the ticket exchange and ran down the old man who lived across the street."

"Young boys are always so mean." Lori laughed.

"Well," Rick explained, "the old man had it coming. When we would accidently loose our footballs or frisbees over his fence he would never give them back. He would always keep them."

"I always thought he just had a wall of kids' toys in his basement." Shane snickered at the memory.

"What about you, Daryl?" Carl smiled freely.

"Do I have a wall a' kid's toys in ma basement?" Daryl set out the last plate and stood up straight, "No, I don'."

"No! Did you ever get to go to arcades as a kid?"

Daryl shrugged, "Occasionally." His lips kicked up just enough to be considered a smile, "Me an' ma brotha used ta collect quarters all year round in a big jar, t'was like four feet tall. he propped up a hand in the air to show the height, "It took awhile ta fill it all a tha way ta the top, but once the jar was full we would both head over ta tha arcade and togetha we would make over fifty thousand tickets."

Carl looked up in awe, eyes wide and mouth hanging open. In fact, everyone at the table looked impressed.

"What did you do with all those tickets?" Daryl was surprised to hear Lori ask the question.

"Tha first time," Daryl stopped to remember, "we got one of them miniature pool tables. The second time ma brother used his half to buy his girlfriend a stuffed animal tha size of this table and I think I just went for getting a wheel barrow full a Jolly Ranchers and a cheap ass guitar."

"You got a guitar!" Carl asked with excitement, "What about the third time!"

"We only went twice." Daryl shrugged, "It took awhile to fill tha' jar up and by tha third time 'round ma brotha was gettin' work and gettin' paid and ma father ended up jus' usin' it fer beer money."

"Your dad sucks!" Carl sighed, feeling a bit sour that there was no more to the story.

"Don' I know it." Daryl agreed. Rick's wife smiled at him sympathetically and that's when Daryl realized it was time to go.

"Got any more cool stories!" Carl jumped in his seat.

"Yeah, plenty," Daryl said, "but I have ta get back ta work."

Carl pouted and Daryl felt a little bad, but it was short lived.

"Get me another beer, wouldja?" Shane quipped, shaking his empty glass over his head.

Daryl's face twitched into something malicious, but was back to his normal poker face before anyone could comment. He grabbed the glass and took the kid's empty Coke too grumbling, "I'll get you sum more soda, too, lil' man." as he left.

Rick scoffed at Shane, shaking his head at his friend's bad attitude but before he could make a remark, Carl was on him.

"You shouldn't talk to him like that, Shane." Carl scowled, "He's cool."

"No he isn't!" Shane defended, "He's just a redneck with a few interesting stories."

"He's way cool." Carl said, logic bulletproof.

Shane just sighed and threw in the towel, digging his knife into his salmon and wishing it was that hick's face.

Everyone dug in, ignoring each other in favor of a good meal and it was silent until Daryl came back, refills in tow.

Rick smiled again, setting down his fork to watch his waiter approach. Shane lifted his head to reach for his beer but his hand paused midway across the table, his face etched in surprise and eyes just watching Rick's face beam. He had no idea why his best friend looked so happy after everything that happened that day. A cold beer was thrust into his outstretched arm and his attention was split. Shane looked away from his friend, deciding to control his alcohol instead.

Carl smiled accepting his soda, "Hey Daryl?"

Daryl wasn't sure when they ended up on first name bases, but he didn't really mind, "What's up, lil' man."

Carl looked over at him mother and then back at him, "Do you wanna come over for dinner sometime?"

Daryl was speechless, he wasn't sure what to say to the kid so he looked over at Rick for help. He didn't find it. Rick looked just as hopeful. "Uh, sorry, kid."

Carl deflated.

"Sorry, between this job and my other two..." Daryl sighed, feeling stupid, "I don't have time to do anything like that."

"Couldn't you just call in sick?" Carl pouted, flicking his curly fries around on his plate.

"That's not how it works." Daryl said. The kid looked really let down, so he added, "How 'bout next time you come here fer dinner I'll make some time and teach ya the secret to mastering Ski Ball."

Carl brightened immediately, "Really!"

"Sure," Daryl shrugged.

The kid turned to his mother excitedly and repeated the news as if she hadn't heard the debate herself a second ago.

Daryl turned to Rick, hoping to see support for his actions and he found plenty. Rick was grinning at him and nodding his approval. Pushing away from the table, Daryl made himself scarce.

Shane was the only one to catch the disappointment on Rick's face as Daryl left.

"Alright," Carl laughed, "Let me tell you the story of how me and Sophia saved our classes field trip two months ago."

XxxX

"You guys wan' any dessert?" Daryl asked idly as he gathered up the dishes with a bit of Rick's help.

"Carl you want a sundae?" Lori smiled, nudging her son sweetly.

"Ummm, Carl looked up at Daryl as if asking permission, "I dunno."

Kid was still trying to impress him.

"C'mon Carl! Don't you want to make us all jealous?" Shane laughed.

"Is anybody else getting anything?" Carl looked down at the table shyly.

Lori smiled, "I'm certainly getting one!"

Carl nodded, "Then yeah, I'll get one too."

Daryl nodded and left with all the dirty dishes.

With a clean table, Rick was able to stretch out a bit more. He loosened up a bit, sipping at the last of his beer and leaning back against the booth lazily.

It wasn't long before Daryl came back with ice cream and Rick perked up a bit without thinking. Daryl set the desserts down and took off again before anyone could talk to him and Rick tried not to look bummed out.

Carl dug in, spooning in the sweet treat sickeningly fast.

Lori ate from her bowl slower, finishing half of it before pushing it over to Shane's eager hands.

"Carl, we need to talk to you." Lori turned to face her son, placing a supportive hand on his tiny shoulder.

Carl wiped off his hands and mouth and smiled at his mother, "What's up?"

Rick leaned forward and smiled as best he could, "Carl, your mom is pregnant."

"You're going to be a brother." Lori finished.

Carl was dumbstruck, spoon dangling from his limp fingertips for all of three seconds before the kid recuperated and continued eating his dessert. "Is it a girl or a boy?" he asked between a mouthful of ice cream.

"We don't know yet." Lori said, "We wont know for a few more weeks."

"If it's a girl can we name her Sophia?" Carl asked, swaying back and forth at the thought of his best friend.

"We'll see." Lori shook her head and rolled her eyes good naturedly.

Shane gave a laugh, a little hallow and awkward, but still a laugh and Carl babbled on about baby names so casually it was like he had dealt with this sort of news daily.

Rick looked over at the crowd of people surrounding them until he spotted Daryl, following his movements with his eyes until he walked past their table. He reached out just as his waiter was passing, pinching his sleeve and pulling on it lightly, he looked over and Rick smiled up at him softly.

Daryl chewed on his lower lip nervously, blue orbs flickering between Rick's eyes and his lips. The look was cute. Was he even aloud to think the word 'cute' this early in a relationship? Especially one as fucked up and non-existent as this?

"Can we get the check?" Rick asked smoothly.

Daryl nodded blankly and left, but he was back in seconds, bill in hand."Ya like everything a'right?" he asked, taking the two empty sundae bowls.

"Hell yeah!" Carl cheered, posing rather heroically in his seat.

"Language."

Daryl set down the little black notebook with the check and cast a glance at the kid, "You shouldn't swear in front of yer parents, kid."

"Why not?" Carl smirked.

"Disrespectful."

Carl shrugged, "I bet you swore in front of your parents all the time!"

"I nev'a got tha chance, I'd get ma ass whooped before the words even left ma mouth." Daryl said, "Learned real quick tha' talkin' like tha' ain't gonna fly. Yer lucky yer momma here will leave you off with a warnin'. It's very sweet a 'er."

Carl glanced over at his mother and smiled sheepishly.

Daryl just shook his head. "Have a nice night." He finished, giving a half wave good bye and treaded away.

Carl reached out to stop Daryl but fell short when he couldn't find a good enough reason. Rick could see the disappointment all over his son's face and could sympathize.

"I'm going to the bathroom before we leave," Rick pulled his wallet out, counted out a few bills and slipped them into the check's book, "anyone else need to go?"

"Yeah," Carl sighed, propelling himself out of his booth and tripping after his father with a bit too much enthusiasm.

Shane laughed and watched Carl follow Rick around the maze of people and tables, "You raised a great kid, Lori."

Lori smiled nostalgically, "Yeah."

"We're going to get through this." Shane reached over and took Lori's hands in his, "You. Me. Rick. We're going to get through this and we're going to back to the way we were."

"No we're not, Shane." Lori grimaced, "I think Rick has already mourned and moved on. He knows our marriage is over."

Shane looked down at the table and fiddled with the check, "We can all still be friends though, right?" He glanced up at Lori hopefully, "You guys are all I have."

Lori responded with a considerate smile, "I don't have an answer for you."

For lack of anything better to do with his hands, Shane counted the money in the checkbook a couple of times, "I think Rick is a bit more out of it then we think." he laughed sadly, remorsefully.

"What do you mean?"

"He left that Daryl guy a fifty percent tip." Shane chuckled bitterly.

"No," Lori whirled the last of her wine around in her glass and watched it stain the edges red, "I don't think it was a mistake."

"Huh?"

"I think he likes Daryl," Lori grumbled into a sip of wine, "I think he respects Daryl. I think he wants to thank Daryl for saving Carl."

Shane looked down at the money curiously, "He's thanking him with money?"

"Rick is thanking him every way he knows how." Lori sighed, "He'll probably start with the money then move on to inviting him out for dinner and eventually they will become friends and we will never see Rick again."

Shane watched Lori grieve over her lost relationship for a few minutes before turning to the money and glaring at it as if it were filthy.

XxxX

Rick waited by the door for Carl to finish washing his hands, "It's almost the end of the school year, any plans yet for summer break?"

Carl turned off the sink and dried his hands with a large handful of paper towels, "Not yet. I wanna hang out with Sophia a bit."

"I'm sure that can be arranged." Rick laughed, watching his son crinkle the used sheets into a ball and toss them into the waste basket with a basketball dunk.

"I wanna come back here, too!" Carl smiled, "I want Daryl to teach me how to play Ski Ball."

"Your birthday's coming up." Rick reminded him, "You're going to be thirteen."

"Officially a teenager!" Carl smirked punching open the bathroom door and holding it for his father, "Do you think Shane and Daryl and Sophia could come to my birthday party?"

"It's your birthday party, invite whoever you want."

Carl boosted his fist up in the air, "Yes!"

"What kind of birthday party do you want?"

"I want one right here!" Carl pointed over to the arcade. "I made some more friends at Beth's party, so I want them to come too."

"Just keep in mind, it's not for another two months." Rick tussled his son's ratty hair, "Don't go inviting everyone this soon."

Carl jumped up, "There's Daryl! Can I ask him to come now?"

Rick's head snapped over to where his son was pointing. Daryl was standing next to the Glenn kid from before, talking and folding his arms and looking like a tired, angry cat.

"I told you, you should wait to make plans until the date is a little closer-" And Carl was gone. Rick chased after him, catching up just in time to hear him ask Daryl his question.

"Will you come to my birthday party?"

Daryl coughed and Glenn choked in surprise and smothered laughter, "Whut?"

Glenn covered his mouth and his laughter as best he could, "I think you got him mixed up with someone else."

Carl shook his head, "No. I want Daryl to come to my birthday party." he corrected matter-of-factly.

And Glenn was laughing again.

Rick smiled apologetically at Daryl from over Carl, "Sorry. We should get going, Carl."

"What happened to that big jar of yours?" Carl blurted out, "The one you and your brother collected quarters in?"

Daryl still looked a bit shell shocked by the first question, but he managed to mutter, "Dun' remember."

Carl eyed him skeptically but didn't push the topic, instead choosing to face him straight on and hold out his hand politely.

Daryl considered the hand for a moment.

"You shake it." Carl informed him.

Daryl sighed, "Why would I wanna do tha'?"

"So I can thank you formally for a delicious dinner."

Glenn, a few feet away, made a sound somewhere between another laugh and cooing at the adorable sight.

Daryl scoffed but took the kid's hand none the less, his large, rough paw dwarfing Carl's own. He shook it a few times, none to gentle.

Carl only smiled, "Thank you for all of that fantastic food, a bewildering good time and impeccable service. I was thoroughly impressed."

Everyone was thrown by the kid's vocabulary.

"Did they teach ya all those fancy words in yer kindergarten class?" Daryl asked slyly.

"But very adult of me, wasn't it?" Carl asked with big, hopeful eyes.

"Sure." Daryl muttered.

"Than you'll come to my birthday party!"

"I didn't say tha'."

"But, you'll think about it, wont ya?"

Glenn interrupted, "May I ask why you want him to come so badly?" he asked with warm grin.

"He saved my life a few weeks ago!"

"Did he?" Glenn asked, genuine curiosity laced in his voice. He bent down to Carl's eye level and glanced up at Daryl.

Carl made it his job to catch Glenn up, retelling the whole slightly fabricated adventure. Glenn gave the story the appropriate gasps and laughs when needed, glancing up at Daryl occasionally with a bright smile.

Daryl tried to correct Carl every time he was compared to a superhero, and tried to explain his own side to the tale but he was brushed off. Rick smiled and watched the brunette stammer and sputter his excuses for being too kind. The cop had never seen Daryl look embarrassed before and the sight was priceless. It took far too much self control not to reach over and just kiss and touch the nearly invisible blushes.

"Are we ready?" Shane spoke from behind him, "We've been waiting a while."

"C'mon, Carl," Rick pushed his son away from the two waiters gently, "it's time to go."

Carl groaned and waved his good bye, failing miserably at hiding his childish pout, "I'll send you a formal invitation to my birthday party in a few months, Daryl."

"I'll be waitn' fer it, lil' man." Daryl huffed, lips kicked up in something almost a smile.

"Thank you." Lori stood beside Shane, waiting for Rick to pass before heading to the door herself. Shane followed after as well, but not with out sending a glare Daryl's way.

"Whut crawled up his ass." Daryl murmured, half to himself, half to Glenn.

XxxX

"You coming, Shane?" Rick asked, opening the driver's side door and hovering next to it.

Shane was standing up on the curb still, staring hollowly at the road a dozen feet away.

"Shane?" Rick asked again, moving to close his door.

"Actually," Shane sprung to life again, "I'm gonna hafta catch up with you later. I got a hit on the case a few blocks from here I wanna check out."

"We can drive you." Lori suggested, her head pocking out of the open window of the passenger side. "It's already pretty dark out and the street lights will be on in a matter of minutes. Why don't you let us shorten your trip."

"That's a very kind offer," Shane shuffled his feet and kicked some loose gravel around with the toe of his boot, "but, I actually need some fresh air."

Rick cocked his head to the side, "You want me to join you?"

"Nah," Shane said, running a hand through his hair and looping his free hand in his belt loops, "I just need some time to think about everything and uh, get some fresh air."

Rick gave his friend a dry, concerned smile, "Are you sure?"

"Absolutely."

"Well," Rick hesitated a bit longer before hoping in the truck and starting the engine, "then call me when you get home so I know when you're safe."

Shane gave his trade mark half smile and nodded, "Of course. Wouldn't want mamma bear to worry about me."

XxxX

Daryl's head hurt. It always hurt on days like this.

He was glad the day was finally over. He wasn't sure how much more he could have handled, with his schedule so booked with chaos. Rick had been a surprise, although an almost pleasant one, but if he was going to effect his life so violently everyday, he wasn't sure he wanted to learn to live with it.

All the instincts he had toned over the years were telling him to flee. Telling him to run and hide and stay away from people with unpredictable outcomes. Because he was sort of starting to wonder if Rick's brain was the eighth wonder of the world because who the hell thinks like that.

Rick Grimes liked his voice. He liked his eyes. He liked his lips. Rick Grimes was sorry and Rick Grimes wanted to see him again.

Damn.

More then anything, Dixons hated to be confused and Daryl was a pure blood Dixon through and through. Rick confused him, his thoughts about Rick confused him and the thought of thinking of Rick confused him. Everything about the cop set him on fire from the inside out.

When had his numbness turned into this raw and achy emotion?

And his warning bells went off again, telling him to duck and run for cover and he figured it was another floozy until his head was smashed up against his truck's window.

"You listen to me, you heartless bastard." A cold, cruel, familiar voice croaked into his ear, "I'm warning you right now. Stay away from Carl and stay away from Rick. Don't you ever go near that family again."

Daryl struggled against the grip until he was able to slip away from it, arms curling into a fighting stance. He lashed out, cuffing his attacker across the face a few times before backing up and regrouping, "Don' feel so tough when yer opponent ain't pinned against a door, do ya, fucker."

"If you don't leave Rick and Carl alone I'll rip your inbred, white trash heart out!"

"Tha's funny. I've been recently informed I don' have one." Daryl hissed, temper flaring.

"I'm telling you one more time, so make sure to make a note of it," Shane glowered, "Don't ever come into contact with Rick again."

Daryl spat over to the side, tasting a bit of blood where his teeth must have smashed against his lip, "Make me."

Shane lunged at him as soon as the words left his mouth and Daryl blamed himself for not expecting it to be immediate. The cop had him on the ground in seconds and even though Daryl was quickly being over powered he was not going down easy.

Shane straddled his waist and grabbed at his arms. Daryl rammed his hand out and crunched his fist into the bigger man's jaw bone, one more punch landed on his nose and he could feel it crack out of place. Daryl's smirk was short lived. Shane caught hold of his wrists and wrapped them over his head in between his massive knuckles.

Daryl kicked out and squirmed and wrenched his hips around and was still able to do some damage to the bigger, stronger man but he wasn't able to tear himself free. He was left helpless as a rain of punches were dealt to his torso and face.

It took too long for Shane to stop, but when the monstrous man finally let up Daryl could only roll onto his side and swallow air.

"Pathetic." Shane spat, "I'm surprised Rick could put up with you this long."

Daryl's head hurt. It always hurt on days like this.

XxxX

**A/N-** And there is the second half! I hope it was worth the wait!

Coming up next in chapter 6: A **HUGE **misunderstanding

Please review if you can spare the time! It really means a lot! When an author doesn't get feedback it feels like they're talking to an empty room!


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N- **Oh, snap, are we back? Is this thing on? Testing, testing, 1, 2, 3.

Special thanks to ** just a reader**, **writerchick0214**, ** velvetmer73**, **Ice Dragon3**, **MinuteCloser2Failing**, **Augustus Shepard**, **crazyjayjay**, and **The Emcee**! You readers make it worth writing!~

XxxX

"The situation of our youth is not mysterious. Children have never been very good at listening to their elders, but they have never failed to imitate them. They must, they have no other role models."  
_James Baldwin_

XxxX

**Dollface-**

"I can't believe you." Lori growled from the drivers' seat of her car, "Why are you acting out at school? Is it because of that Dixon man, because I don't think he's a good influence!"

Carl shuffled his feet in the back, toeing his shoes off and them slipping them back on to keep himself distracted on the long ride home, "It's not like that, mom."

"I think it is like that and if I have to keep you from seeing that guy ever again I will."

The ultimate threat a mother could give.

"No!" Carl jumped, "It's not Daryl, I swear!"

"Then who is it?" Lori pulled the car to a stop at a red light and turned to face her son, "Who is the one influencing you to attack other kids at school!"

Carl flinched, "It wasn't like that, Mom!"

Lori sat back in her seat when the lights turned green and continued to drive, "Then please explain to me what the hell happened at school today because I'm at a loss for words."

"Some of the bullies were making fun of Sophia!" Carl yelled in protest, "They were making her cry and I couldn't just sit there and watch them do that to her!"

Lori sighed, her anger ebbing away.

"I didn't want her to cry so I told them all to go away!" Carl collapsed in on himself, trying to wipe the unshed tears away before they had a chance to fall, "They started calling me names so I..."

"What did you do, Carl?" Lori glanced up to the rearview mirror to eye her son sympathetically.

"I punched him in the face." Carl whimpered, "But he totally deserved it!"

"You really hurt that boy, Carl." she scolded, "Nobody deserves to be hurt."

"What about all of the people Dad has to shoot when he's working!"

"Th-that's," Lori was taken aback by her son's response, "different."

"How."

XxxX

Rick got home around seven, tired and sore from a day on the job. He wondered into his house and took a moment to take in the familiar surroundings and the smell of dinner on the stove, "I'm home!"

"Rick," came a frustrated call from he kitchen, "you need to talk to Carl!"

"Carl?" Rick suppressed a groan. He really wanted to sit back with a cold beer and watch some television after his difficult day at work, "Why? What did he do?"

"He got sent home early from school today for punching another kid in the face."

Rick brushed his way into the kitchen, gliding over to Lori's side, "Why would he do something like that?"

"Apparently he was defending Sophia."

"Then what's the problem?" Rick leaned against the counter Lori was cooking on and eyed her, "That doesn't sound like something he did wrong."

"I told him it was wrong to hurt people and he asked why."

"An honest question."

Lori turned to face him, crossing her arms and narrowing her eyes, "He wanted to know the difference between him hurting that little child and you defending yourself against criminals."

"And what did you tell him."

"I told him to ask you when you got home."

Rick rubbed the top of his head through his hair, trying to keep all of his pent up emotions in check, "Well, where is he now?"

"Up in his room." Lori said, "He hasn't made much noise so he might have fallen asleep, but I sent him to his room until dinner."

Rick pushed off the counter and stepped out of the kitchen without another word to his wife. He treaded up the stairs slowly, listening to them creak softly under his weight.

He walked over to his son's room, smiling at the "DO NOT ENTER' sign he had probably just tacked up, "Carl?" He called, "Can I come in?"

Carl didn't answer.

Rick sighed and rasped his knuckles against the door, "Carl, I know your upset, but I think we should talk about what happened today."

Not a sound came from within the room and Rick was starting to feel a bit shut out.

He sighed and reached for the handle, twisting it open and pushing on the door, "Listen, Carl- Carl?" The room was messy and crowded, but it was quite obvious that Carl was nowhere in sight. Rick bit his lower lip and checked the closet and under the bed. No Carl.

"This isn't funny, Carl." Rick grumbled, heading over to the upstairs bathroom and then checking the master bedroom's bathroom and closet and even under his own bed. "Carl?"

Lori poked her head into the room, "What are you doing, Rick?"

Rick scrambled to his feet, "Carl's not in his room."

XxxX

Hours before Rick had gotten home Carl was long gone. He had snuck out the window of his room. He had been terrified at first, jumping the long distance from his sill to the trampoline, but he had pulled it off.

It was quite the long walk, too, all the way to Sophia's, but he had hitched a ride with a kind old man who had a jolly smile and a Santa beard. Carl had told him the dirty joke he had heard and class and the man didn't yell at him like his mom would have.

The kind, old man dropped him off in front of Sophia's house and told him that it was dangerous for kids to travel alone before driving off. Carl didn't really take the man's words to heart because he had gotten there safely, hadn't he.

Sophia was waiting for him outside already because she had been sent home, too. She looked rather roughed up and her eyes were red and puffy with tears. Carl took her by the hand and led her away from that terrible home.

"Where are we going, Carl?" Sophia asked.

"We're going on an adventure." Carl smiled back at her, "That way you can forget all about today."

Sophia smiled so brightly it gave Carl's cheeks a sunburn.

The walk over to the resteraunt was a lot shorter, so the two kids decided to tough it out and walk the mile. When they got there, it was just as crowded and welcoming as the day before and Carl pointed out all of his favorite things about it to his friend.

"And there's an arcade over there!" Carl pointed to the room and dragged the little blond over, "And you want to know the best part about it?"

Sophia's sparkling hazel eyes glanced over at him, "What?"

"Daryl works here."

Sophia gasped in excitement, eyes shooting around the room in search of the super hero, "Where is he!"

Carl smirked, "Let's go find out."

With a mission in mind, the kids ran around, looking everywhere, even in the bathrooms and the kitchen, but they couldn't spot hide nor tail of the man in question.

"Are you sure this is the right place?" Sophia sighed, putting her hands on her hips dramatically.

"Yeah." Carl murmured defensively, "He's got to be around here somewhere."

"What if he's not?" Sophia kicked the floor, "What if he's not here today?"

"Look!" Carl's eyes shot open in shock as he had the pleasure of pointing out his link to Daryl, "That guy was hanging around Daryl the whole time we were here! I bet he knows where he lives!"

Sophia eyed the Asian man worriedly, "Are you sure? He looks really busy..."

"I'm positive!" Carl ran up to the server, dragging Sophia behind him. "Hi Glenn!"

Glenn set down the monstrous pile of pizza boxes he was balancing at the sound of his name and looked over curiously, "Uh, hello!"

"Do you remember me?"

Glenn paused with a blank smile before realization dawned on him, "Oh! Yeah! What are you doing here again? Where are your parents?"

Carl grinned. "Where is Daryl?" he asked, completely ignoring Glenn's questions.

Sophia nodded her approval, slinking out from behind Carl.

"Ummm, Daryl?" Glenn cocked his head to the side and then pulled out his phone to look at the time, "It's only just past noon, Daryl's shift doesn't start till six."

"Well, where can I find him right now?" Carl pouted.

"Well, if he isn't working his brother's shift over at the gas station, then he's probably just getting home."

"Where does he live?" Sophia's eyes widened at the idea.

Glenn's eyes went from curious to concerned in a heartbeat, "What do you guys need from Daryl? I'm sure I can help you out just fine."

"No, that's okay," Carl shook his head, "just his address will be fine."

Glenn pursed his lips, "What are you kids up to?"

"Nothing." Sophia barked with big, saucer like eyes.

"It's just," Carl eyed his shoes and refused to look up, "My dad-"

"Oh!" Glenn interrupted, "It's for your dad?"

"Uh," Carl shrugged, "Yeah."

Glenn reached over and picked up a notepad and pen with a coy smirk, "Well, then, you go ahead and tell your dad that he doesn't have to be so shy next time. Tell him that I already know." Glenn ripped out the paper and handed it over to Carl with a wink.

Carl raised his eyebrows and glanced over to Sophia to confirm that that had just happened before turning back to Glenn, "Umm, thanks!"

"Tell your pa I'm rooting for him!"

When they left the resteraunt, Sophia taught Carl how public buses worked and they waited around at a stop for half an hour with a handful of change. When they got onboard, Carl handed the driver Daryl's address and the man shot him a sad, troubled look that seemed to say, 'I'm so sorry'.

Carl was confused, but he sat down with Sophia and his slip of paper. He sort of understood, though, when the bus jerked to a stop a while later and the driver signaled for them to get off.

The neighborhood was a scary place. There were men dressed in heavy, dark clothing and woman who were barely wearing any. There were walls painted up in down in crude words and police sirens ringing almost constantly in the distance.

"H-how do we get to this place?" Carl motioned to the paper and the bus driver fingered an overrun building just across the road.

"It's in there." the man said, "It says apartment 3A, so I'd ask the person at the desk, but I'm sure it'll be on the third floor."

They jumped off the bus and waited for the road to clear.

Carl nodded and reached out to grab Sophia's hand again. Not because he was scared. It was because that's what his mother and father always did when they crossed the road with him.

When they got to the other side the bus drove away and Carl felt abnormally stranded. He held onto Sophia's hand a little tighter and looked back.

Sophia smiled at him uncertainly and glanced up to at the building and it's grimy, old walls, "You ready?"

"Yeah." Carl pulled her through the doors and looked over at the young man sitting at the desk. He walked up to the counter and slipped his precious paper into the man's hands, "We're looking for this address."

The man eyed him and Sophia up and down and rubbed at his chin, "What're a coupla sweet lil' kids doin' walkin' the street on this part a town alone?" This man's voice was nothing like Daryl's despite the similar accent. This man wasn't strong or tough or cool. He was scrawny and flimsy and odd.

"We're looking for this address." Carl repeated pointing at the paper.

"Okay." the man smiled over at him but it was the kind of smile that got people in trouble with Carl's dad.

Carl squeezed Sophia's hand in his reassuringly when he felt her shudder.

"Well," the man said, "If you take the stairs, it's on the third level and to your right."

Just like the driver had said, it was on the third story. Carl nodded and reached out for the paper, putting in in his pockets safely when it was back in his possession. "Thank you very much." Carl said respectfully and headed for the stairs.

"You two be careful now, don' ya." the man at the desk smiled slyly and Carl secretly hoped he never had to see him again.

The two kids traveled up the two flights of stairs together, making it a bit of a game after it started to become boring. They tried to see who could hop up the most stairs at one time. Carl one with three.

They reached their level and popped open the door there, peering into the hallway nervously, first. There was a couple somewhere far down the ways arguing about the remote control and the only other person there was a large, bearded man at the end, who seemed to be moving, because he was filling a bag full of nice stuff from his apartment and smoking a cigarette.

Carl entered the hallway and wrinkled his nose at the overpowering smell of chemicals and stink. Sophia didn't seem pleased with it either. She covered her nose with the sleeve of her sweater and hissed some foul words under her breath.

Room 3A was the first door in the hallway. It was plain, like the ones they saw at their school sometimes, other than the single piece of duct tape that covered some piece at the top right corner.

Sophia straightened up as Carl knocked on the door and they both stood there tense for a few seconds. There wasn't the sound of footsteps approaching, of talking or even of shuffling. The door just slammed open and Carl and Sophia both jumped.

"This betta be really fuckin' important, Merle-" Daryl stood in the doorway looking angry and tired and bruised, "Oh. Thought you were someone else."

The kids tried to relax, but under the scrutinizing stare of Daryl they both froze. Daryl looked more intimidating than usual injured. He had a split lip that was curled into a weary frown and his eyes were narrowed, though one was rimmed black and it looked like the swelling that must have been around it had recently gone down.

"What happened to your face?" the question sort of blurted out of Carl.

Daryl leaned against the door's frame and inspected the two kids. "Where are your parents?" he ignored Carl's question completely.

"At home." they answered in unison.

"Do they know were yer at?"

"No."

Daryl very nearly face palmed, "Then what the hell are you doin' here?"

Sophia looked up at Daryl with her trademark puppy dog eyes, "We wanted to hang out."

"Hang out?" Daryl shook his head, "With who?"

"You."

Daryl looked a bit surprised but he hid the expression instantly, "Why?"

"Cause you're cool!" Sophia smiled.

Carl nodded his agreement, "Yeah!"

Daryl turned and treaded back into his apartment, leaving the door wide open. Carl and Sophia poked their heads into the small room as best they could. It was small and almost empty, save for the ratty old couch, the dishes in the kitchen and a television set.

"Did you just move in?" Carl called to Daryl, who was shuffling through a drawer in the kitchen.

"No." Daryl said, finding what he was looking for and heading back over to them, "I moved in about a year ago. Why?"

"This place is deserted!" Sophia told him, "It looks like nobody lives here. Or you just got robbed."

"If I was robbed wouldn't they take my TV?" Daryl leaned against the door again and flipped open the cell phone he fetched from the kitchen.

Sophia glanced around him to look at his old television set, "No, probably not."

"That thing's a dinosaur." Carl agreed.

"Shut up and tell me yer father's number."

Carl blanked, tensing up and shaking his head too quickly, "I don't remember it."

Daryl eyed him doubtfully and turned to Sophia, "And you?"

"I don't know my parent's numbers either."

"You've got to be kiddin' me." Daryl growled at the twin looks of sheepishness on the kids' faces.

"Nope." they said together.

Daryl turned back to his apartment, muttering something along the lines of, "Kids are terrible liars." Carl and Sophia grinned at each other and Daryl turned around just in time to catch it, "What the hell do you want me to about this?"

"You could spend the day with us."

"No." Daryl deadpanned.

"You could let us stay here for a few days."

"Out of tha question."

"You could walk us home?"

"Why can't ya walk yourselves. You got here jus' fine."

"We're scared." Sophia smiled shyly, "We don't really know this part of town."

Daryl didn't respond at first and his eyes clouded with thought. It was a better idea than calling the cops or waiting for them to arrive. He'd have to spend the night in jail or at least have to explain everything to the cops in those scenarios, so as long as nothing happened between the time they left this building and the time he got them over to Rick's, everything should be fine.

"Let me get ma shoes." Daryl pretended he didn't hear the kids squealing with joy when he went to find his boots.

On their way out the door, he checked the bus schedules and sighed when he realized there wasn't another ride for hours. He didn't have a car and he didn't have anyone to call, so he figured walking was the only way. He sighed.

"Do you guys know your way from here?" Daryl asked, slipping his door closed behind him before locking it, checking it and checking it again.

"Yeah." Sophia nodded.

Daryl headed to the stairs and listened to the brats follow after him like a couple of baby ducks, "You guys better explain everythin' ta Rick, 'cause I don' know if anyone's going ta take it to well comin' from me." They walked down the stairs as a group.

"Why wouldn't they take it well?" Sophia asked and Daryl just shook his head.

"Do you think we could stop for something to eat?" Carl asked at the bottom of the stairs.

"Do I look like I'm made a money?" Daryl propped open the stair's exit and let the two kids walk out first.

Carl sighed loudly.

"Hey, Daryl." the man at the desk smirked, "Didn't know kids were yer style."

"Shut it, Randal or I'll knock out a few more of yer teeth." Was all Daryl hissed and it was enough, Randal leapt back like Daryl really was going to punch him. Daryl huffed at his accomplishment and Carl and Sophia looked up at him in awe.

When they got out of the building, Carl didn't find the streets all that scary. Not with a big bear like Daryl at their side. All of the men and woman glanced their way, though, and some of them had a look on their face that made Carl shrink further into Daryl's oppressive shadow.

"How'd you guys know where I lived, anyway?" Daryl spoke up, relieving the silence from his tenuos duty.

"Glenn gave it to me." Carl said.

Daryl growled, "I'll kill tha' Chinese fuck."

"He thought it was for Carl's dad, Rick." Sophia informed him and Daryl's eyes shot up to look straight ahead.

"Don' matter. He's still on ma shit list."

They walked quietly again, much to Daryl's relief, but Carl kept walking into other people and Sophia kept getting distracted and almost stumbling into traffic. Daryl was lucky he hadn't accidently killed one of them yet and he was actually surprised to see they had lived to be teens seeing how accident prone they were. Maybe it was just children in general. Probably, not, though, because he remembered being much more coordinated as a kid.

"Hey!" Sophia said sharply, out of nowhere, "We're bruise buddies!"

That was complete gibberish to Daryl, but the other kid seemed to understand. He looked between the three of them and gasped excitedly.

"We're whut now?"

"We all have bruises!" Sophia explained, pointing to the large bruise on her arm that looked distressfully close to the shape of a large hand.

Carl nodded and pointed out the tiny bruise along his jaw line. "I got this from a fight I was in at school." he said proudly.

Daryl just grunted and stepped out of the way of a bysicalist.

"Where did you get your bruises, Daryl?" Sophia asked kindly, gently.

"Yeah!" Carl added, "You didn't have 'um at the resteraunt!"

"That asshole Shane." Daryl hissed rather bluntly, "Tried to beat me up last night after you guys left. I got in a few hits of ma own." he snarled at the memory, "That guy is a real piece of work, ya know that!"

"Is that why Shane had bruises, too?" Carl looked up at him doe eyed in shock and Daryl rubbed the stubble on his chin regretfully. Maybe he shouldn't have said that. "Why would Shane attack you for no reason?" he asked with an expression usually related to finding out Santa Clause didn't exist.

"It was nothing." Daryl muttered, "Never mind. Listen, if I get you guys ice cream, will you drop the subject?"

Carl's mouth jammed shut and his eyes glistened with only happiness after that.

Sophia let out a little gasp of excitement, too, and reached over to clasp Daryl's hand, "Can I get chocolate!"

Daryl rolled his shoulders as an excuse to get his hand away from the kid and nodded, "You can get whatever ya want. There's a Baskin Robins a few blocks from here."

Sophia and Carl nearly danced the entire way there and when they stood in line he actually felt embarrassed for them. They kept wiggling and cooing at everything and bickering about what flavors were better than others and at some point their argument got loud enough that everyone in the shop, and even those just passing by looked at him like he was supposed to do something about it.

When Daryl got up to the counter he was ready to ram someone's head into a wall, so when the cashier snoodly asked, "And what do you want." like he was some sort of inconvenience he summoned up his darkest glare and got the kids free ice cream.

With a single look, Carl had a cone full of vanilla ice cream, and Sophia the chocolate she had wanted.

They were back on the road and traveling through the bad part of town in no time. The kids were sort of dancing around him as he walked, their energy increasing with all the sugar and Daryl regretted buying it almost immediately.

"My house is down this road!" Carl declared, running past them a couple of blocks and then waiting for them to catch up.

They were just starting to get into the more suburban side of the city, so the kids weren't so worried about wandering from his side too much. He was sure he had lost them a few times but when he would stop to look around, the brats would run back to his side.

The three had walked almost four miles before the two kids collapsed and complained about their feet hurting and their stomachs growling and Daryl was actually impressed that they had lasted as long as they did, "C'mon, get up."

Sophia dropped down to her knees and held her hands up to him, "Carry me!"

"No."

"Carry me, too!" Carl pouted from the floor.

Daryl ran a hand through his hair, "Aren't you brats supposed to be traumatized or something! I mean two and a half weeks ago you had a gun pointed at your heads!"

"I'll pretend to be traumatized if you'll carry me the rest of the way!" Carl grumbled and laid out on the sidewalk.

"I will be, too!" Sophia fanned herself lazily with her hand, "It's too hot to be sane, anyway."

Daryl nudged her softly with his boot and sighed, "I'm not carrying you guys, let's go."

The kids just let out long, equally annoying groans and didn't move.

"Then I'll just leave you here." Daryl made to move forward in a bluff, but the brats latched on to his legs like little monkeys and he very nearly face planted. Steadying himself, he looked down at the kids again, "Now this ain't gonna fly."

No matter how much he shook his legs and kicked out he wasn't able to dislodge their tiny arms and only accomplished making them laugh hysterically. It turned into a bull ride of a game in seconds.

Daryl ended up walking -waddling- down the road until he found a burger joint, "Hey. Food. Get off me now and I'll get ya some."

"Take us there!"

"Yeah, take us there!"

With a frown and an unnecessary urge to go on a killing spree, Daryl wobbled through the cross walk awkwardly and into the McDonalds. The clerk at the counter gave him an amused look and Daryl wondered if he was pressing his chances at getting another free meal.

"What do ya two fleas wan'." Daryl called down to the kids who looked up at him with gleeful smiles.

"I want a happy meal!"

"I want a happy meal, too!" Sophia said, "I want mine with chicken nuggets."

"I want a cheeseburger!" Carl smirked, "Cause those are better!"

"Are not!"

"Are too!"

"Are not!"

"They're both terrible choices now shut tha hell up!" Daryl barked and the kids both simmered down and settled for sticking their tongues at each other.

The clerk was able to make sense of the gibberish and clicked buttons on his register, "What would you two like to drink?"

"Sprite!" Sophia laughed.

"Coke!" Carl called, "Because Coke is better."

"Don't you dare start this again." Daryl growled. The kids laughed at his threat and Daryl decided it was too early in the day to start loosing his intimidating touch.

The clerk tapped at his register again, "Anything else?"

"Do you have any alcohol?" Daryl grumbled, "Any at all?" The curious look the clerk shot him screamed all sorts of 'no' so Daryl just sighed, "I'll take a Coke."

Carl cheered as if he had just won some contest and Sophia huffed.

"That'll be $11.95."

Daryl yanked his wallet out and pulled out the necessary bills. He took his receipt and stepped over to a nearby table to wait, "You kids need to come off me righ' now and sit at this here table."

Carl and Sophia finally slipped off of his legs and crawled into their respected chairs.

Daryl dropped into his seat on the opposite side of the table and propped his head up with an arm, "Now you guys are goin' ta tell me why yer comin' over to ma apartment in the middle of the day with out any supervision."

Both of the kids' eyes shot down, Carl looking all the way down at his shoes and Sophia played with a loose napkin she had found on their table.

"Someone best start talkin'." Daryl warned.

"My parents are mad at me." Carl admitted.

"I'm not in tha least bit surprised if this is tha kinda stuff you pull on a regular basis."

Carl's eyes shot up again to meet his, "No, they're mad at me because of the fight I was in at school."

"What happened."

"I... don't want you to yell at me, too." Carl whispered.

"Trust me kid," Daryl leaned back in his chair, "nothin' you hafta say will ever make me yell at ya. I've been in fights and I've caused fights for some pretty stupid reasons so I don't think I have any room to talk, anyway."

Carl took a moment to evaluate Daryl's response then turned to look at him again with nervous, hopeful eyes, "There were some kids making fun of Sophia... and she looked really upset-"

"I wasn't upset!" Sophia said, "I just... had something in my eye!"

"You were, too, upset!" Carl told her and turned back to Daryl, "She looked upset and so I told the guys to stop, but then they started making fun of me so I just... sort of... punched him in his face."

Daryl let out a small, deep, throaty chuckle that surprised Carl and Sophia. They both looked at him long and hard, like he had grown a second head.

"What's so funny?" Carl asked quietly.

"You think I would yell at ya fer somethin' like tha'?" Daryl shook his head softly, "I completely stand behind ya. I woulda crunched that asshole's nose in if I was you."

Carl's face gleamed with happiness at the praise, "My mom said that it wasn't right."

"Well, she wasn't there, was she." Daryl sighed, "A man's gotta protect their friends and family and their ladies."

"She isn't my lady."

"I never said she was." Daryl smirked.

"Your order's ready."

Daryl pushed his chair out and walked over to get the tray. He can=me back and handed the kids their little boxes. "Are we eating here or are we goin' ta keep walkin'?"

"There's a park a few blocks from here!" Sophia informed him excitedly.

"We don't have time for that."

Sophia nodded, expression instantly grave, "Yeah. I understand. It's just... I've only ever been there once and it was so much fun. My parents don't have time to take me places anymore."

Daryl ran a hand over his face and groaned, "We can go for a bit, but-"

"Yes!" Sophia jumped and smiled and Daryl had the feeling he had been duped again.

When they got to the park they ate, or at least the kids did. It was a new experience for Daryl, though, certainly. He had never really taken care of kids before. He had never been to a park and just relaxed and watched ducks and children coexist and he had definitely never been looked at like those kids looked at him. Like he was some sort of hero.

Daryl consciously decided not to check the time. This had been the first day in over a year that he hadn't worried about work or money or how many people he had disappointed. Part of him really, truly wanted to be the hero that the kids saw in him and he couldn't be a hero when he was constantly attacked by the those thoughts. If he went to work and he worried about money and he thought about what everyone else thought than he was just Daryl Dixon. He really didn't want to be just Daryl Dixon anymore.

"Hey Daryl!" Sophia called to him after almost an hour of horse play with Carl and tiring themselves out, "Carl and I were wondering if we could go make a wish in the wishing fountain over there." She pointed out the large fountain in question with a dirty, mud covered hand.

Daryl eyed the large, beautiful statue and the clear, glistening water at its feet, "Uh, yeah, sure, but we have to go right after that. The sun is going down and I bet yer parents are getting worried sick 'bout ya."

"We don't have any pennies." she told him nervously.

Daryl got off his bench and dug around in his pocket for loose change, "A' think I have sumthin' in here somewhere."

Sophia smiled again and held out her cupped hand.

Daryl found a handful of change and brushed through it until he found two pennies. He handed them over and pocketed the rest, "Hurry up. I need ta get ya home."

Sophia nodded enthusiastically and ran back over to Carl. Together they raced over to the fountain. They came back about a minute later with similar looks of giddy anticipation.

"What did you two wish for?" Daryl asked, turning a bit to walk with them to the sidewalk.

"You're not aloud to tell." Carl told him and Sophia nodded.

"Yeah, if you tell your wish it won't come true!"

"Is that right?" Daryl sighed light heartedly.

"Yeah!"

"A'right," he ruffled up their hair, "sorry for asking."

Sophia grabbed the top of her hair while Daryl's hand was still entangled in her locks and held on, squealing with joy as Daryl lifted her up off the ground with his hand. She laughed when her feet touched the ground again and tried to catch onto Daryl's arm when he withdrew it, "Do that again!"

"No!" Carl grabbed onto Daryl's other hand jealously, "You had your turn it's my turn now! Lift me up, Daryl!"

Daryl reached down, let the kids grab hold of his arms and picked them both up and dropped them again.

They landed on their feet in a fit of giggles and reached out for his arms again. Daryl lifted his hands far above his head and smirked as they tried to jump up to grab them, "Can't reach 'um now, can ya."

Sophia and Carl laughed and finally retired to walking quietly on either side of him after a few more minutes of jumping up and down and tiring themselves out.

"You guys have far too much energy." Daryl told them.

Carl smirked at him, "You're just old!"

"Thirty-five is not old." Daryl swatted him over the head softly, "Sophia's got ma back on this, one, right?"

"Nope." Sophia smirked, "You're old!"

Daryl just sighed and brooded silently.

"My house isn't that far from here!" Carl smiled, pointing across the street, "I think it's half a mile from that big tree over there."

"Good. The sun's goin' down and I don' wan' you guys ta be out here in tha dark." Daryl said, "Are we crossin' the road, then?"

"Yeah!" Carl hopped of the side walk and held his hand up to him expectantly.

Daryl looked down at the tiny outstretched arm with a silent question on his lips.

"You're supposed to hold our hands when we cross the street." Carl told him, "Mom's rules."

Daryl looked over at Sophia for help but she stood in the same position, hand awaiting his, "Are you serious?" The kids just stared at him until he gave in and let them hold his hands.

XxxX

This is what hyperventilating must feel like. Shane had been driving for almost an hour and as the minutes ticked past his anxiety grew and grew into a large angry beast.

When Rick had called him that last thing he had expected to hear was that Carl was missing. In all truth he had expected to be berated for his actions towards Daryl last night but Rick didn't sound like he knew anything about it.

He didn't have time to be relieved. Carl was as close to a son as he ever had and the thought of him missing made his blood run cold.

He had driven through the entire town with absolutely no luck. Lori had called him only once to tell him that she had called all of Carl's friends and had only found out that Sophia had gone missing as well.

All of the worst possible scenarios were going through his mind and if it wasn't for the adrenaline coursing heavy through his veins he probably would have passed out long ago for the simple fact that he kept forgetting how to breathe.

The sun was going down and it was getting dark and he was still holding his breath and hoping Rick would call and tell him that it had all been some sort of misunderstanding and Carl was safe and warm inside.

Shane was scared. He was scared of loosing Carl and Lori and Rick and everything was falling apart. Everything was falling apart and he couldn't do anything about it and it was all that Daryl Dixon's fault.

It had to be. There was no one else to blame.

Shane's fingers clutched around the steering wheel until his bruised knuckles blotched white, his eyes narrowed hatefully at the thought of the man and how much of a terrible influence he was on Carl...

And then he thought of Carl again and his pulse quickened for another reason all together.

Shane was just passing the park that Carl had talked non stop about at the beginning of every Spring. Carl always told him stories about the baby ducks there. He would tell him the same ones, too, like Shane had forgotten them.

The park seemed a lot colder then usual in the dark.

The water looked a lot more gloomy. The ducklings had curled into their nests for the night. The swings were swaying only just slightly in the breeze and he almost just passed them. Three of them. A man and two children, crossing the road, locked at the hands.

Shane's car jerked, his steering wheel twisting, his tires spinning as his foot slammed harshly on the gas and the whole vehicle lurch forward, mounting the curb violently just in front of the trio.

Daryl's eyes went wide and shocked and terribly appalled and his mouth opened with an explanation but Shane was out of the truck and at his throat in the blink of an eye.

Shane grabbed the man by the shirt and pushed him away from Carl and away from Sophia. He refused to listen to anything but his own breathing. The kids' protests fell on deaf ears.

Daryl stumbled backwards and barely kept his footing, but before he could right himself Shane's big hands were wrapped into his jacket again. The big, bear of a man pulled him forward until their noses touched.

This close, Daryl could smell his breath, and feel his warmth and see the malicious intent clearly in his eyes. It had been awhile since somebody looked at him like a fresh kill.

And then, he was falling backwards, staring up into Shane's searing gaze as he was pushed and he stumbled and tripped right into oncoming traffic.

Daryl's heart skipped a beat.

XxxX

**A/N-** I'm going to admit to you guys right now that I did NOT mean to end it that way... Woops!

I found this musical artist, Deadmau5, you heard of him? He is NOT my usual music style but I've been listening to the album 4X4=12 on repeat for the last two days while I wrote this! I'm listening to it right now!

I did a story swap with **writerchick0214** earlier this weekend and I wrote a Rick/Daryl story and yeah, I made Daryl a stripper. *Smirk* It's called **Forbidden Fruit** So, Wooh! Check it out if you have the time and check out the fic she wrote me in return **Hot for Teacher**. It's kick ass!

Review if you have the time and the heart! Thank you so much for reading and I'l see you next time!


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N-** The amount of reviews I got for chapter 6 were breathtaking!~ Thank you all so much!

Very very Special thanks to **Augustus Shepard**, **Damion Starr**, **Mlle T-Rex**, **writerchick0214**,** RejectedShyRebel18**, **Ice Dragon3**, **Silver Mirror**, **The Emcee**, **velvetemr73,** **crazyjayjay**,** DreamBiggerDarlingAE **, **Marion**, **Akua**, **kaszz-chan**, **simplegay me** and **MinutesCloser2Failing** for your kick ass, kind reviews that made my day and made me smile so many times! You guys are amazing!

Another thank you goes out to **Idril Isil Gilgalad** for the shout out to **Dollface **and **Forbidden Fruit **in their _Rick/Daryl _fic **Brothers in Arms**. It's easily one of the best and it's greatly underappreciated for how well it's written! Check it out!

XxxX

"God is a comedian playing to an audience afraid to laugh."  
Voltaire

XxxX

**Dollface-**

When Daryl was eight years old his black and tan coon hound was hit by a car. That dog had been his best friend and loyal side kick for years. His old girl had always been so full of energy, jumping around and hunting with him day in and day out. It raised such an odd feeling to see her mangled and bloody on the pavement that hot summer day.

Daryl never felt quite right after witnessing that.

He figured it had to be the loss of an irreplaceable friend, but some days when he looked back and remembered, it had been that sickening crunch that made him flinch every time. It wasn't as if he hadn't heard bones break before but that was really the day Daryl had discovered how fragile a body can be.

He didn't want little Sophia and Carl to go through that process just yet.

Daryl looked into the eerie reflection of himself in the car's silver bumper. He wasn't sure if it had stopped moving or if his entire world was at a stand still. He heard the screech of tires, a horn blaring in his ears and screams, but he did not hear that crunch.

Pain exploded in his ribcage and he folded in on himself a bit, but when he looked up, the car still hadn't moved. Sound disappeared, as if he were under water or in a tunnel but it came back again as he resurfaced and gasped for breath.

"Shane!" a shrill, tiny voice screamed, "Stop it, Shane!"

Another flare of pain jolted up his spine and Daryl curled away from it. He could hear someone over him, breathing heavily and stepping slowly.

"Shane!"

Daryl's mind swayed back into focus and his sight cleared just enough to watch Carl run into the street and grip onto the man towering over him. The kid latched on to his arm and held him off balance so Shane couldn't kick out anymore.

"Shane! Please! Stop!" Carl was crying. Tears ran down his cheeks and puddled around his chin and Daryl wanted to tell him that he was alright and that he was tough and he could take it, but when he opened his mouth his words jumbled up into an unintelligent croak. Daryl swore in his head.

"Let me explain!" Carl whined desperately, stumbling backwards in shock as Shane shoved him away banefully. The kid staggered and caught himself, looking back at Shane pleafully, "Shane!"

Shane brushed Carl off and reached down for Daryl again. Daryl was pulled up into an uncomfortable sitting position by the collar of his shirt and the taller, larger man leaned down to breath on his face.

"I warned you."

Sophia reached for Carl as soon as he tottered back to the sidewalk, gripping at his shirt and arms and holding onto him for dear life. She sobbed hard into his back and hid behind him, "Do something, Carl!"

Carl looked back at her, wide eyes brimming with tears, "What am I supposed to do!" He sniffed and weeped, "I'm just a kid! I couldn't help! Shane is too big!"

"But, Daryl!"

Carl swung his head around heinously, "What am I supposed to do!"

If his father was here he could have done something. His father was strong, tough, courageous. He could have been the one to save Daryl.

An awkward, atrocious whimper broke from the young boy's throat.

There was a sound of something smashing hard against the pavement behind them, but Carl flinched and couldn't bring himself to look back at the scene.

His father would have been steady enough to look.

Sophia was screaming behind him, swearing colorfully with words Carl wouldn't have guessed she could know. Her tone was frantic and wild, her hands waving about like little flags in the wind and her eyes were puffy again. In the light of the setting sun they glimmered golden.

Carl scanned around for help, the tears in his own eyes pouring over. No one was stopping or helping or looking and Carl felt so alone, and the world was just too much.

What would his father do?

Back up. Cops always had back up.

Carl glanced around again, this time determined. He ran to Shane's truck and climbed in, fiddling around and going through the garbage in the cup holders and the glove box and on the dashboard until he found Shane's cell phone. He flipped it open and dialed his father's number.

If he had just told Daryl his father's number in the first place none of this would have happened. He gripped at his hair and held back another sob. He held his breath as he listened to it ring and tried to keep his tiny fingers from shaking.

"Shane? Did you find Carl!" Carl's father's voice came out choppy and worried and another wave of guilt rushed over him.

"Daddy!"

"Carl!' Rick gasped, "Where have you-"

"Dad!" Carl interrupted, "Shane threw Daryl in front of a car!"

XxxX

Rick was having a heart attack. Or at least he assumed so. His chest was constricted and aching and painful and he couldn't think clearly once the words tumbled out of his son's mouth.

"He... Shane what?"

"Shane threw Daryl in front of a car!"

Daryl was dead. Rick tried to open his mouth and talk to his son but his voice wouldn't work. His throat tightened and his mouth went dry. A car couldn't kill Daryl Dixon. He was so much more than that. So much more than a car crash and a mangled heap of a body.

Rick hadn't even had his chance yet. He hadn't had his chance to know Daryl or to show Daryl who he was or to show Daryl what he felt and what he now sort of knew he felt...

And all of that was over.

"They're fighting in the middle of the road and Shane wont stop!"

Rick felt a little woozy.

"Shane just attacked him when he saw him with us! I'm so sorry! I'm so sorry! I should have told you where I was, but Mom was so mad and I didn't... I didn't want you to be mad at me too, so I went to get Sophia and we went to Daryl because I thought he would understand and," Carl gasped for breath and sobbed, "and I just wanted to talk to him but now Shane is hurting him and there's nothing I can do!"

Rick's lungs filled with air greedily as he choked on relief, "Tell me where you are."

"We're by the park! The one with the ducks!"

Rick had the sudden urge to face palm because of course his son was at the park. Carl loved that park. Rick felt stupid for having driven every where but there.

He pulled his car into drive. It would only take two minutes to get there if he drove fast.

"I'll be there in a second!"

XxxX

Daryl reached out blindly and grabbed for anything he could get his hands on. He found himself curling his fingers in a tuft of Shane's dark, curly hair.

Shane cried out and he tightened his grip around Daryl's throat, his face was twisted with scalding hatred.

"I told you to stay away from Carl!" Shane spat, "I told you!"

"Are ya gonna fuckin' kill me, then?" Daryl hissed back hoarsely, "Gonna fuckin' kill me right here in front of those kids?"

"If that's what it takes."

Daryl clawed his finger nails across Shane's scalp when his grip loosened and he could no longer hold onto the strands of hair. With his hand free, he punched out again, satisfied by the feeling of flesh against his fist.

The bruises he had given Shane the other night were standing out like purple paint on a fresh canvas. He couldn't help feeling a little proud.

Daryl rammed his fist into the side of Shane's head a couple of times, his range of motion diced down to nothing more, and he tried to slip out of the big man's grip while he was kneeled over, dazed. Shane blinked away his dizziness with little effort and pulled Daryl closer again, using one of his hands to restrict the rougher, smaller man's thrashing arms.

"I could kick yer fuckin' ass if you would stop going fer low blows and cheap shots!" Daryl spat, trying to gain leverage with his feet now that his hands were restrained to the street's dirty concrete.

"Then I guess it's a good idea not to give you that chance." Shane hissed back, letting go of Daryl's throat and gripping on to his jaw painfully instead.

Daryl writhed underneath him, "Yer just too much of a pussy." He had learned all of his 'tough guy' talk from watching Merle. He should have figured that if it never got his older brother anywhere _he _wanted to be, then their wasn't much hope for him, either.

Shane snarled, tightening his grip on Daryl's mouth before letting go, pulling his arm back and striking down against the smaller man's cheek hard enough for his head to crack hard against the pavement on impact. Daryl tried to blink away the spots in his vision, but it took some time.

"I'm going to give you a quick life lesson, Dixon." Shane growled above him, "If you're in no position to run your mouth, then shut the fuck up."

Daryl looked up and met Shane's gaze sourly, "I'm gonna give ya a lesson of ma own." Finally wiggling his wrist free from Shane's distracted grasp, Daryl lashed out and punched the cop as hard as he could in the throat, watching in satisfaction as Shane crumpled a bit and choked on a mix of air and spit. Daryl pulled himself out from under the mess of a man and kicked out with all of his rage, hitting the spastic cop in the gut. "Don't fuck with a Dixon."

Shane balled over and slowly tried to regroup, eyes darting up to watch Daryl scramble to his feet. "Fuckin' hick..."

"Watch yer language, fuck ass. There are children 'round." The familiar wet and sticky feeling of blood was dripping down from wounds all over his body. Daryl reached up to wipe away the river running towards his eye with the back of his hand and it came back smeared crimson.

Shane stood and posed to attack again and Daryl raised his hands in defense, but he faltered and tripped over his feet a bit. His head flared up as some of the shock and numbness bled away for the pain that branched throughout him.

Daryl felt like everything in the background was spinning and it reminded him, vaguely,of the merry go rounds he had always stayed away from when he was young. That ride was for girls.

There was another screech of tires somewhere off in the distance, or maybe only a few feet away, but Daryl flinched and waited for that crunch. Again, it didn't come.

"Daryl!"

Daryl's eyes shot open and his head turned fast. He felt a little sick, something similar to getting off a rollercoaster, "What?" He really wasn't sure of what else to say.

Warm hands reached out and wrapped gently around his arms. The feeling was oddly comforting. The hands ran up to his shoulders and rubbed up to his neck and cupped his cheeks sweetly, "God, Daryl."

Daryl looked up to watch Rick's worried, anxious expression twist into something hateful and nasty. Daryl closed his eyes again. He wasn't sure why Rick was looking at him in such a loathsome way, but it sent foreboding chills up his spine. He wasn't quite ready for Rick to hate him.

"I'm-" Daryl tried to apologize. He wasn't sure why, but he did. He was an idiot for not taking Sophia and Carl straight home or to the police station and it was all his fault. He hated himself for being so stupid. He hated Shane for getting in the way. He hated the car's driver for not hitting him when they had the chance. He hated Rick. He hated himself, mostly, though. For being weak.

"Shhh." Rick hushed him, gentle fingers brushing some of the blood away from his split lip. "I'm so sorry, Daryl."

Daryl's eyes snapped open again, "What?"

Rick's eyes were filled with affection and some unusual level of panic and Daryl felt confused again. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fuckin' fine," Daryl avoided Rick's overwrought gaze, "but tha' fuckin' friend a' yers needs a leash."

"That stupid fucker nearly broke a couple of my ribs!" Shane barked as he dragged himself over to Daryl and Rick, "He might have actually cracked a few!" Judging by the way the big man kept gripping his side and grunting he was either over exaggerating or Daryl really had landed a good one on him.

Daryl smirked. When he glanced back at Rick, the cop's eyes were tainted with aggression again but they weren't focused on him.

"What's going on, Shane." Rick demanded, letting his hands fall from Daryl to land back at his sides.

Shane sneered, "This fucking hick kidnapped Carl and I'm getting him back-"

"I did not fuckin' kidnap anybody, dip shit. If you had stopped ta think fer a minute you and yer stupid fuckin' monkey brain could have pieced together tha' I was only bringin' them back!"

"You're a liar." Shane snapped, "If I have to beat the truth out of you-"

"You wanna come over here an' try!" Daryl challenged, raising his fists.

"How much longer do you think you're going to last, redneck!"

"Enough!" Rick ordered, stepping in between the brawling men, "Don't start this again."

Daryl and Shane huffed but sauntered down to calmer levels.

"Shane, take Sophia home." Rick said, eyeing Shane and daring him to start something.

"But-"

"Now. Shane." Rick narrowed his eyes, giving his best friend no room for ultimatum.

Shane seethed silently, backing off without turning his back as he headed up onto the sidewalk. His eyes never left Daryl's.

Sophia didn't seem too comfortable when Shane offered up his hand to her, she didn't seem at all pleased to be led to the truck and ushered in, either.

Daryl watched the little girl slip into the passenger seat and shoot him an apologetic, wet eyed smile. With a nod of his head, Daryl told her that everything was alright. She smiled, just a bit, and watched Shane nervously as he started up the car. Carl was standing on the street before the truck, looking up at Shane with blame in his eyes and hate in his heart.

Shane drove off.

Rick subtly ran his hands across Daryl's chest, in the dim light that the street lights gave off, and with the blood striping down his face, Rick couldn't help but think Daryl looked oddly fragile.

"Look at you." Rick murmured, scanning over Daryl and tucking a loose strand of his ratty, brunette hair behind his ear.

Daryl glanced up at Rick and tried not to look like a guilty child. He straightend his stance and gave his best closed off expression.

Rick set his hands softly on either side of his face, mindful of his wounds, and he smiled at him. It wasn't a smile filled with happiness or joy but one that brimmed with relief. Soft and subtle. Daryl couldn't look away.

"I was bringing him back." Daryl informed him readily, "I was bringing yer kid back. I didn't take him."

"I know." Rick laughed. Daryl wasn't sure why that didn't make him angry. He was filled with all shades of turmoil and Rick was laughing in his face. He didn't think about it that way though. He only really thought about how light it was, how compelling the sound was.

"The kid and his girl came to me." Daryl added.

Rick's smile morphed into something lovely. "I know." he repeated.

Daryl watched the cop scrutinizingly, eyes flickering over him, on the look out for sudden changes and unpredictable mood swings.

"You're not mad at him, are you Dad?" Carl appeared beside them, tugging at Rick's shirt.

Rick looked down at his son, letting go of Daryl and trying not to think about the blood now squishing between his fingers, "Of course not. But I'm mad at you."

"What did I do!"

Rick scoffed, "What did you do? Your mom is at home worried sick. You had Shane and I running around the city all day thinking you were dead. Don't even get started on all of this 'what did I do?' business." The father rolled his eyes good naturedly, moving to place his hand on his son's head reassuringly but seeing the crimson staining his palms he changed his mind.

"I should get goin'." Daryl said. His voice sounded rough and broken, like he had just eaten glass.

Rick looked over at Daryl again, and then up at the darkened sky, "It's pretty late."

"Yeah."

"Why don't you come over for a bit." Rick asked, "We can get you fixed up, feed you some dinner and I'll take you home?"

"I'm alright." Daryl frowned, "Ma house is only a few miles from here. I'll be fine."

Rick shook his head, "Absolutely not."

"What?"

"C'mon." Rick smirked, "After everything that's happened today do you really think I'm going to watch you walk away?"

"I don' think ya have any say in tha matter-"

Gingerly, Rick reached out for Daryl's hand. Daryl tried to pull away, but almost leisurely. Rick gradually wrapped his fingers around Daryl's wrist, not fast enough to startle the man, but quick enough to catch him. "Please?"

Daryl wrinkled his nose.

"Just to clean you up, then? You don't have to eat dinner if you don't want to." Rick pulled on Daryl's arm gently until he finally gave way and followed Rick and Carl to the car.

XxxX

When they got in the door Lori was a balling mess of worry, her eyes puffy, her shirt all ruffled and her hair in a state of disarray. She held and scolded Carl, pulling him against her chest in an embrace and pushing him away to get a good look at him over and over.

"You're grounded!" Lori told him, her face buried in her son's hair.

"For how long!"

"Forever!" Lori cried. She motioned to the stairs dramatically, "Go upstairs! And don't come out until dinners ready!"

"It's past dinner time, Mom!"

"Did you eat?"

"Daryl bought me and Sophia McDonalds a few hours ago."

Lori looked up to see Daryl for the first time, her eyes cold. Daryl, at the time busy trying to fade into the background, met her glare head on. "Well, are you still hungry?" Lori turned back to her son.

"Not really."

"Then go to bed."

Carl frowned and glared at his mother, "Can't I stay up and talk with Daryl?"

"No." Lori replied bitingly, "Get upstairs."

"But-"

"Now."

Carl stomped his foot and growled, albeit more of a pout, and stormed up to his room.

"I'll be up to tuck you in in a minute!" Lori called.

"Don't bother!" Carl shouted back, "That's for kid's anyway!" His bedroom door slammed closed with all of the force his little ten year old body could muster.

"You _are _a kid." Lori sighed. The tension tripled as Lori turned to face Rick, "Tell me what happened."

"Why don't you go wait in the bathroom," Rick whispered to Daryl, brushing his hand up against Daryl's cautiously, "I'll be over in a second."

Daryl cleared his throat and nodded without looking over at the cop. Keeping his eyes on the floor, Daryl shuffled around Lori and went to find out where the bathroom was located.

"What is _he _doing here." Lori growled, slamming her balled fists into Rick's chest.

Rick held his ground and shrugged, "Carl and Sophia ran away and went to him-"

"Why."

"I guess because they didn't really have anywhere else. And he's easy to talk to." Rick supported his weight on the balls of his feet, "When Daryl was walking them home, Shane saw them and attacked him-"

"I'm sure Shane had a good reason."

"He didn't."

"I'm sure he did."

"He assumed there was a reason and there was not."

"I'm sure there was a reason to assume it."

"There wasn't."

Lori narrowed her eyes in a challenge and waited until Rick was silent for a while, "Well, that explains all the blood at least."

"Yeah," Rick looked down at his hands, "Carl called me from Shane's cell phone when Shane pushed Daryl in front of a car."

Lori looked down the hall where Daryl disappeared.

"Shane's actions were completely uncalled for." Rick said.

"Maybe they were warranted-"

"He pushed," Rick took a breath to calm himself, "Daryl in front of a car."

"Why does it matter to you so much."

"Because Daryl is a good man." Rick defended.

Lori bit her tongue and held back whatever comment she had, instead her hands flew over to run against her belly tenderly, "Is he really the type of man you want around your newborn baby in a few months?"

"Yes." Rick responded automatically, brushing past his wife and heading after Daryl to the bathroom.

"You'll regret it." Lori hissed after him.

"I doubt it."

XxxX

When Daryl first caught sight of himself in the mirror he smirked, leaning forward to get a better look at his black eye, his split lip, his bruised jaw line and the hand prints around his neck. He briefly wondered it Merle would have found his wounds just as amusing.

The damage brought him back to his childhood. To sports games turned violent, to conversations turned bitter, to fights running rampant. To his father.

"You look like shit." Rick was leaning against the the bathroom's door frame with a smirk on his face.

Daryl met his eye in the reflective surface, "You should see the other guy."

Rick chuckled and walked in and clicked open the medicine cabinet. He reached up to grab the first aid kit and closed the tiny door. Padding over to the other side of the small room, Rick took a seat on the closed toilet lid.

Daryl watched the cop for a bit, just observing his little movements and reading into his patient, encouraging smile. "I've had too many near death experiences since I've met ya."

Rick's eyes twitched down to the clean, polished tiles on the ground and then back up to Daryl, "I'm sorry."

Daryl moved forward, ghosting over to Rick and sitting on the edge of the tub in front of him, "Well, there's that."

Rick gave a raspy laugh, his lips kicking up and his teeth glimmering behind them.

"Give that here, I'll take care of maself." Daryl reached for the medical kit and Rick pulled it away.

"You need someone to take care of you for once."

"No, I need ta get maself taken care of so I can get on out a' here." They held their positions, Daryl reaching out and Rick pulling away in an odd game of chicken. "I don't like people touchin' me."

"Couldn't you make an exception," Rick waited, "just this once?"

Daryl sneered softly.

"I'll be gentle." the cop smirked coyly.

"I'm gonna pass out from blood loss if we wait much longer." Daryl rolled his eyes and leaned for the case until he was practically in Rick's lap.

"If you're unconscious I can fix you up without all of this hassle." Rick laughed.

Daryl raised his eyebrows with a look that was almost amusement. Watching each other, faces inches apart, the two men slowly receded back into their original positions. Rick set the kit in his lap, keeping his hands on it until he was sure Daryl wouldn't grab for it again. He finally clipped it open and pulled out what he needed.

"You really did take a beating, didn't you." Rick hummed as he reached behind him to the sink to wet a wash cloth. He leaned towards Daryl and dabbed away the dried blood. He tried not to read too much into the flinch Daryl tried to hide.

"S' not so bad." Daryl closed his eyes when he felt the damp cloth run across his forehead. He kept his mind otherwise vacant, working hard not to think about close proximities or how Rick smelled of strawberries and coffee.

It was silent for a while, Rick pressing the cloth up against Daryl's head gently and Daryl watching the tiles, the walls, the med kit and everything else that wasn't Rick. Occasionally, there would be a crinkle of paper and the spray of anti-infectant.

"Fuckin' eh!" Daryl reeled back and nearly slipped into the bathtub, only barely regaining his balance when Rick grabbed out and held him steady, "That shit fuckin' stings."

Rick choked on his chuckles when he tried to hold them back, "Sorry. I'm almost done, though."

"I'd be done already."

"I'm just being thorough." Rick told him patiently.

"Be thorough faster."

"Most of the bleeding on your head has stopped, which is a good sign." The cop set down the box of SpongeBob SquarePants band aids he had been digging through and opened one up, slicking off the protective wrappers and sticking it on the cut just below Daryl's right eye. "But, some of these bruises look almost a day old."

Daryl didn't grace Rick's statement with a response, reaching up to feel the glossy bandage. Rick took Daryl's hands, carefully grazing the tips of his fingers over the calluses decorating the younger man's palm and knuckles. Daryl watched their hands intertwine as if it was alien to him.

"Where do you live, anyway?" Rick asked, keeping their hands locked together despite the antsy look Daryl shot him, "I'm curious to know how far Carl got."

"I live a few miles from tha gas station, ya know tha one." Daryl let his free hand fall into his lap, "In tha dodgy area."

"That's quite a ways away." Rick mussed with a hint of an impressed air about it, "What's it like, living there?"

"Some days are better than others." Daryl shrugged, his shoulders slumping, though the man was still able to hold himself pridefully.

"Is it at least safe?

"What?"

"I want you somewhere safe."

Daryl dissected Rick's admission strenuously, giving it a couple minutes of thought before answering, "There are a lot a people who want me somewhere safe. Preferably in a room with white padded walls and tha kinda jacket ya don' pick up at a clothing store."

Rick gave a short laugh that sounded oddly like a hiccup, "Who would want to see something like that?"

Daryl looked over at him like he was searching for the answer he never gave.

Rick coughed restlessly, shifting his weight and leaning a bit closer to Daryl, "I'm sorry about all that's happened today."

"Don' be," Daryl grunted, "It wasn't yer fault everything went ta shit."

"I kind of feel like it is, though." Rick countered.

"Yer bein' ridiculous." Daryl proclaimed, "Get yer head out of yer ass."

Rick leered playfully and batted Daryl's knee, "Words of wisdom, courtesy of Daryl Dixon."

"Don' make me repeat maself, Grimes." Giving a smug smirk, Daryl pulled himself to stand on his feet. The refined look of determination in his eyes and the assertive, yet casual stance he seemed to always take defined a new level of resolution that Rick found himself jealous of. After everything that had happened in just the last couple of months, Daryl still had a fire in his eyes that would have died out in anybody else long ago. Rick wasn't sure what the other man had been through in his life that had made him so tough and confident, but he was sure it wasn't good.

The world was funny like that.

"Are you going to stay for dinner?"

"I-"

"Please stay!" Carl said suddenly from the doorway. Rick wasn't sure how long he had been there, but he hoped it wasn't long. The boy was wearing a two piece pajama set, Spiderman's symbol was stretched over the shirt and the bottoms were checkered with cartoon cob webs.

"Ain't ya supposed ta be up in yer room, kid?"

"I wanted to see if you were alright." Carl said shyly.

"I'm fine." Daryl put a hand on his hip and leaned against the sink in front of him, "Now bounce before yer mom comes and yells at ya."

"Are you sure you're alright?"

"I'm movin' around jus' fine, ain't I?"

Carl looked down at the carpet and played with a loose sting with his toes, "Shane looked like he really wanted to hurt you."

Daryl glanced over to Rick to see what his reaction was to the topic but the cop didn't seem to be paying much attention to the conversation. His eyes followed Daryl's movements though.

"How did you get so strong?" Carl looked up and asked. He flexed the tiny muscles on his arms and posed heroically, "Cause I wanna be as buff as you in a few years."

Daryl blinked and turned his eyes away from the admiration in Carl's tone, "I-"

"I bet you go camping a lot!" Carl jumped, "Do you?"

"Well-"

"Do you hunt?" The kid leaned into the doorway, "If you do, then what do you use to hunt."

"I-"

"I bet you use one of those cool guns that are really big and really loud!" Carl held up his arms and mimed shooting a rifle, "How much are guns, anyway?"

"That-"

"Do you think-"

"Hey." Daryl growled, "Shut up!"

Carl stopped and looked up at him expectantly, a small smile on his face.

Daryl huffed, "I do a lot a heavy lifting and never really sit still. I do go camping, when I can find tha time. I hunt. I use a crossbow, guns are too loud and you'll never catch anythin' if ya scare all of tha game away. A cheap rifle will go fer a couple hundred bucks, but it's always good ta get somethin' with good quality so if I wanted a nice gun I would look ta spending around three or five grand. Now, ya need ta learn ta be polite. Stand straight, look forward and wait fer someone ta answer yer god damn question before you ask another."

Carl's eyes widened, but he did as he was told, quieting down and stilling his unusually hyper movements. It took almost half a minute before all of the answers were analized by the kid, but as soon as he processed everything, a grin spread across his lips, "Can you take me and my dad camping some time and teach me how to hunt?"

"Well, I... what?"

Rick laughed over on the other side of the room and Daryl, despite his dumbfounded state, was tempted to flip him the bird.

"I want you to teach me how to hunt! Do you know how jealous everyone at school will be!" Carl's excitement got the better of him once again and the kid was bouncing off the wall in no time.

"I'm not a very good teacher, kiddo." Daryl rubbed his forehead tiredly, wincing slightly when he hit a raw wound, "I haven't been out of the city recently, either. It's been awhile since I've had any free time."

The kid pouted, "Please?"

"Carl." Rick's called out his son's name in a warning, though gentle, it told Carl there was a line.

"Fine." Carl deflated, attitude whirling to a mollified mellow.

"Listen," Daryl sighed, "how 'bout next time I go out into the forest, though I can't promise it'll be anytime soon, you and yer dad tag along. I'll teach ya as much as tha' lil' sponge of a brain a yers can soak up."

Carl gasped loudly, words of gratitude just about to tumble out before a cold, wary voice interrupted him, "Didn't I tell you to go to your room?" Lori appeared from behind the corner, standing over her son with an unamused frown tainting her other wise perfect beauty.

The kid scrambled off, too busy making himself scarce to shoot Daryl a proper goodbye. Daryl didn't exactly hold it against him. Lori would be rather terrifying to a kid.

Rick's wife stepped into the doorway that her son once occupied, setting her left hand up against the frame. Her wedding ring tapped against the wood.

"Dinner's ready, Rick." Lori said blandly, "It's pretty late, so it's nothing spectacular. Just cheese crisps."

"I'll be over in a minute." Rick pulled himself to his feet.

Lori looked her husband up and down and then cast a similar, though more distrustful glance at Daryl. she didn't say anything more, pushing off the door and heading back down the hallway.

"She's lovely." Daryl spat bitterly and rolled his eyes.

Rick stepped over to Daryl's side. "Listen, you don't need to teach Carl hunting. That kid is all over the place with hobbies, I'm sure he won't even remember asking in a few days-"

A door somewhere in the house slammed open and heavy, angry footsteps entered, "Where is he!" Shane's voice was filled with an unreasonable amount of hostility. Lori whispered something to him and Rick stepped in front of Daryl as he heard Shane trudge quickly over to the bathroom. "What the fuck, Rick!" Shane turned the corner and swore.

"Shane," Rick's voice was both stern and friendly, "I'm going to need you to calm down."

"Don't you dare ask me to calm down, Rick!" Shane bellowed, "This is not a time for you to tell me to calm down!"

"Everything can be explained, but let's lower or voices and-"

"Explain! Fine, Rick! Explain!" Shane seemed to be on a manic episode, repeating himself and shouting hysterically, "Why is the man who kidnapped your son in your home! Under your roof! With Carl and Lori!"

"He did not kidnap anybody-"

"Do you really believe that!"

"Yes." It might have been the coldness in Rick's tone, but Shane's mouth slammed closed and he ate his words, "Shane, listen to me. It has been a long day and I'm not going to spend the next hour explaining everything to you. Daryl is a good man. I trust him. I trust Carl, and Carl has told me that he went to Daryl's house on his own. Nobody took him or made him or Sophia do anything against their will, especially Daryl. If anything, we owe Daryl a proper thank you for bringing them back safely."

"I'm not going to thank this white trash for anything."

"Why don' chya go outside and bite tha curb." Daryl snapped, "I'll be out in'a minute."

Shane reacted violently, throwing a loose punch that Rick blocked. The big man was breathing heavily and twitching angrily, "I'm not going to sit here and be smart mouthed by some illiterate inbred-"

"That's enough, Shane." Rick very nearly snarled, "If I have to tell you to back down one more time you'll regret it."

"Are you taking his side?" Shane's voice was still brimming with venom, but there was an underlying quality of betrayal.

"Your side isn't looking too good." Rick's tone settled to a more soothing element, "You need to calm down and reassess what you're doing here."

Shane opened his mouth shakily as if to say something, but his jaw snapped closed again. The room fell silent, almost overpoweringly so when compared to the noise seconds before.

When Rick looked at Daryl he almost always saw some sort of raw resemblance to a wet cat, but when he looked at Shane he was always reminded of a dog. The man was his best friend, loyal almost to the point of being volatile, strong and muscular where Daryl was lean and delicate, he was fierce and nearly unstable.

The thought was almost amusing.

"I should go." Daryl slipped out from behind Rick and brushed past Shane easily. He didn't flinch or make himself smaller when he passed the man. Almost defiantly, he stepped past Shane with his head held high.

Rick followed Daryl, past Shane and past Lori to the driveway. Daryl stood on the sidewalk, basking in the fresh air and breathing in the night's breeze. The crickets were at it, again. Chirping loud enough to wake the dead.

"Can I take you home?" the question really was a question this time. It was unsure and tense and worried. Rick really wasn't sure why he had asked at all. Daryl had been through a lot today and there was no way he would want to stick around him, the man who caused it all, any longer.

"That would be nice." Daryl surprised him, "Thank you."

XxxX

Rick decided that despite the tension, he really liked being in cars with Daryl. It was quiet, in a pleasant way. It seemed that the only peace Rick got recently was by Daryl's side.

Daryl was looking out the window, up at the stars that glimmered off in the distance.

Daryl really was beautiful. Not in the way that Lori was. Not in the way woman were. He had a musky quality, a rough look that sent most people packing and at the same time drew people in.

Such an odd feeling.

Falling for Daryl.

Rick wasn't quite ready to admit love, yet. It was only just recently that he could admit lust and yearning and like.

Daryl moved to lean the side of his head against his window, the street lights dancing over head lighting up his face in a metronomic pattern. His smell was enveloping the car slowly. That warm, easy smell of nature and comfort and strangely enough, freedom.

"Here's my apartment." Daryl lifted his arm to point out a large, terribly old building. It was painted up with a hard life and a brilliantly gruesome history.

Rick didn't make any comments towards it, afraid that he might offend Daryl and his home. He pulled the car next to the side walk.

Daryl straightened himself out, looking over at Rick tiredly, the day's chaos finally catching up to him. "Thanks fer tha ride."

Rick put the car in neutral and let his hands fall from the steering wheel, "Any time."

They didn't move dramatically, only insufficient little twitches towards each other until they were only a few unsure inches apart. Rick could feel Daryl's breath on his lips, and it made his heart rate accelerate.

The passenger door popped open and Daryl slipped out. Rick was left in his wake, staring after Daryl and desperately wanting more.

XxxX

**A/N-** This is the time in my little story where I start to feel insecure about everything.. maybe... **well,** I hope you enjoyed this update! Please tell me what you think!~

I'm working on starting two more Walking Dead fics, one is called **Cheater** which will be about Shane, who's dating both Daryl and Rick at the same time and they don't know about eachother, but hey, how can that go badly for Shane! *sigh*  
The other I have yet to name is a Daryl/Glenn fic where Glenn goes to jail and finds he's bitten off more than he can chew, but good thing his scary fuckin cellmate has got his back... hopefully...  
And there is one rather short Rick/Daryl college idea I might work with...

And with Shane... well, it's gonna get worse before it gets better.

So, review, tell me what you think and if any of my new stories tickle your fancy keep an eye out for them.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N- **Did you know that only 1% of the population is asexual? I'm just so filled with fun facts, just don't double check anything...

Warm thank you's go out to **Silver Mirror**, **The Emcee**, **MinuteCloser2Falling**, **simplegay me**, **crazyjayjay**, **velvetemr73**, **Idril Isil Gilgalad**, **Akua**, **Yukichoji**, **Marion**, **Ice Dragon3**, **Damion Starr**, **DreamBiggerDarlingAE**, **koreto-chan**, **Guest**, **LisaBoston**, **Inkybrown**, and **TheColdFlame** You guys are absloutely amazing!

XxxX

"Make the expectations lively enough, and action will follow."  
_Mason Cooley_

XxxX

**Dollface-**

Shane sat at his desk, twitching and swinging his hips side to side so his swivel chair would move. He hated sitting still. Not as much as Rick, though.

Rick wasn't sitting next to him. Rick wasn't where he was supposed to be.

The whole police station seemed empty without him.

It was early in the morning, only about eight, and most of the other officers were busy typing or eating or surrounding the fresh pot of coffee in hopes of waking up. The sun was lighting up the station well, peering in through the windows and gleaming off the letters on Shane's keyboard.

His computer stared dully at him, mocking his inability to become inspired by the beautiful day. The screen was nearly blank, his desktop a taunting image of the mountains in some foreign country. What were those pictures for, anyway. All they did was remind the working man what they were missing from the convenient setting of their cubicle.

Shane was lucky not to have to work in a cubicle. He hated confined spaces.

Rick was luckier, though. He was off gallivanting with his family for his week off and he was still on a payroll.

Shane didn't hold it against him.

He flipped through his case folder and stared at the same sixteen pages of notes and thoughts that he had been looking at for months. He wouldn't have guessed at the beginning that a case as simple and common as this would become so complicated.

Rick was puzzled with it as well. Despite all of their stake outs over the last month or so, and although they had delved deep in the cursed drug world they, had no luck on finding the dirty dealer.

All they knew is that as more days passed by, more and more people were killed or hospitalized by faulty drugs. It wasn't as if these people were the good, old citizens of their tiny Alabama town, though. They were all hard core junkies and homeless sleaze bags.

For that reason, Shane had been wary to call anybody in for help. It was risky to get an informant involved anyway.

That had been his thought on the matter some time ago, but now, two months with nothing to show, he had the phone dialed in his hand and a goal set.

He stared at the numbers on his phone's little screen and weighed the pros and cons silently while ghosting his thumb over the call button.

Shane didn't know much about the informant. Only what his pay grade, which wasn't very high, allowed.

T-Dog had been undercover for most of his adult life. His cause was bigger than a shit drug dealer. Something about going after the head of a dangerous mob, but mum was the word.

He was trustworthy. That was all Shane had to know.

Left alone, Shane knew he would never piece together this case. Not even with Rick by his side. So, he pressed call.

It rang three and a half times before someone picked up.

"Ello?"

"Hello?" Shane shifted in his seat and stilled, "This is Shane Walsh with the Alabama State Police Department."

The other line shuffled and crackled and he could hear voices were muttered off in the distance. Eventually the voice of T-Dog returned, "The fuck man! You tryin' to get me killed? Don't you have any code words or something you can let me in on 'cause you nearly blew my cover! I've now you for all of two seconds and I already wanna break your fucking nose."

Shane ran a hand across his face and sighed, "Sorry."

"Don't worry about it." T-Dog's deep voice resonated through his ear piece, "I'll let you off the hook this time, but you better learn to be more considerate."

"I'll work on that."

"What is it you want." the man asked after a pause. Shane could hear cars and buses and people in the background.

"I'm working on a case, T-Dog." Shane decided it was just best to get to it rather than waste any more of the informant's time, "I'm having some trouble and I wanted you to keep an ear out for anything relevant. Maybe you can have better luck than me and my partner."

"Shoot." T-Dog said, "I'm all ears."

Shane flopped open the case file again and scanned the contents, "A drug dealer is selling drugs that are putting people in the hospital and even killing a few. They seem to sell mostly in the downtown area, at least that's where most of the victims are being found, but there are some in the suburbs as well."

"What do you want me to do about it?"

"Just," Shane itched the top of his head and shrugged, "gather any information you can."

"I can do that." T-Dog told him.

XxxX

Shane decided to take the rest of the day off after that. There wasn't much he could do until the informant got back to him since patrols were already covered.

He got over to Rick's by eleven that morning.

There was a potted plant by the welcome mat outside. It was starting to droop, but Shane paid it no mind. He never did much like flowers.

He didn't bother knocking. Years of rooming with Rick, connecting with Lori and bonding with Carl familiarized him enough to just opening the door.

It was quiet inside. No TV blaring or stereo playing or food frying. He didn't get the sense of something suspicious, so he took it as the comfortable air that it was and wandered into the kitchen.

The family was crowded around the table with a little pad of paper and a list.

Lori and Rick looked up to watch him appear, looks of content and curiosity mixed between them.

Carl didn't look up. He was sitting in the middle, his parents on either side and the note pad in front of him, a pen tapping between his fingers.

"Hey, Shane." Lori smiled at him, "What are you doing here?"

Things had cleared up between the three of them for the time being. Rick seemed to have accepted the reality of what was happening between Shane and Lori. He didn't stand between them, at least. He made himself a benched player. Standing off in the sidelines and watched his life crumble.

Daryl hadn't shown his face in awhile. Not since the night Carl and Sophia had disappeared. Rick acted like he hadn't noticed, but Shane could tell something was just off.

He almost seemed sad, sometimes. When Shane caught him alone, thinking.

Shane tried not to think about that.

"Hey, Kiddo." Shane sat down at the table and smiled at Carl. It had been a little over two months since Daryl had visited and Carl blamed Shane. He had been giving him the silent treatment ever since.

Just as expected, Carl didn't respond to his presence.

Shane looked down at the list on the table and read out the first few lines, "Balloons, cake, Ice cream, soda. Is this the list of things you want at your birthday party?"

Carl ignored him in favor of etching the word 'Cheetos' on a fresh line.

"Aren't you going to have your party at that restaurant?" Shane smiled softly.

"Dad," Carl still hadn't looked up when he finally spoke, "could you please tell Shane that if he has any questions that he can direct them to either you or mom?"

Rick smiled slyly at his son and ruffled his hair. He turned back to Shane and shrugged, "You heard him."

"You can't be serious, Rick." Shane massaged the bridge of his nose and sighed, "Two months is an awfully long time to hold a petty grudge, don't you think? It's unhealthy."

Rick gave his most innocent grin, "What am I supposed to do? Order him to talk to you? He's just a kid, Shane. He's got his priorities all messed up."

"Two months, Rick." Shane hissed, an obvious underlying hurt in his voice.

Carl didn't seem fazed by Shane's tone so Rick shrugged it off, too.

"Why don't you tell him your plan for your birthday, Carl?" Lori brushed her fingers across the table and squeezed Shane's hand reassuringly. Under the table, Rick's hands balled into fists and he worked hard to keep his normal, straight face.

"No thanks." Carl murmured dryly. He was toying with the end of his pencil and chewing on his lower lip as he thought.

Rick was secretly bursting with joy at the thought of his son still on his side. He was glad he wasn't the only one who missed Daryl.

Thinking about Daryl still hurt. Every time the name even brushed past his subconscious, which was far more often than Rick would ever admit, his mind would run a mantra of 'you coward, you coward, you coward,' over and over. Because Rick really was a coward. Because Daryl hadn't sought him out and he didn't have the courage to approach or look at Daryl without facing the fact that his life as he knew it was over.

Rick had been plotting and planning ever since Daryl had left him in his car stumbling over himself in the shock and realization of what they could become. He thought about taking his family back to the restaurant but kept making excuses. Rick wondered if he could stop at the gas station Daryl worked at to fill up his tank, but he figured that was too obvious, too out of his way. Eventually, as it reached to almost two months without seeing Daryl, he even considered totaling his car and taking it over to Daryl's shop, but he eventually convinced himself that that was just insane.

"We're going to have the party here, Shane." Lori sighed and spoke for Carl. "We can't afford to take half of the middle school out to dinner so we're going to have a Bar-B-Q here. We have a pool. We might as well use it."

"Oh!" Shane forced a smile and turned to Carl, "Well, that sounds exciting! What do you want for your birthday, champ?"

Carl drilled his pencil into the corner of his paper for a while and stared off into space, either lost in thought or concentrating hard on ignoring the conversation.

"He wants all tons of stuff, don't you Carl?" She felt the need to intervene once the silence stretched to unreasonable. Lori stood up and stepped over to one of the kitchen counters.

Carl just shrugged reluctantly and looked up to face his mother, "I dunno."

"What did you ask for?" She pressed.

"A bike."

"What else."

"Stuff." Carl sighed and twiddled the pencil in circles between his thumb and index finger.

Lori sighed and shot her son an exasperated sigh, "What kind of stuff?"

"Stuff stuff." Carl was just being difficult. He had the stubbornness of a child.

"Carl." Lori's voice was sharp again, her patience wearing thin.

Carl slipped out of his seat and trudged down the hall, "I'm going to call everyone and tell them about the party."

Rick watched his son with a well hidden smile.

"I'm so sorry, Shane. You know kids." Lori moved back over to the table and sat down, wary of her little growing belly.

"It's all right." Shane murmured, his voice tense and rough and filled with regret, "I'll just have to... let him get over it."

With Carl gone there wasn't much left to distract the adults from the tension bearing down on them. It hovered above them like a deadly beast with a palpable threat to destroy them.

"How's the case." Rick asked. He hadn't talked to Shane since he was at work the Friday before, his week off keeping him from any such business.

"Well, I finally broke down and called that informant like you suggested."

"Oh?" It was a rule never to speak informant names, and even code names, in public under any circumstances. "How'd that go?"

"Well, he's going to call me with anything he can get." Shane sat back against his chair and looked straight across the table at his best friend, "Until then, there is nothing we can do."

"Well, we could always do another stakeout by the parking lot downtown later this week." Rick shrugged as he suggested. The last thing he wanted was to be stuck in a car with Shane for the next twelve hours and he tried not to let that show in his voice.

"I don't think that'll help." Shane shrugged and Rick tried and succeeded at holding back his dramatic sigh of relief, "We've been down that road a few times and it hasn't gotten us anything but a couple of petty thieves."

"So we wait?"

"So we wait." Shane smiled at Rick, his lips forced and sad. His hallow eyes fell down from Rick's face and followed the table and slowly drifted over to watch Lori's belly fondly. "How's the baby?"

"The baby's fine." Lori stroked her bloated tummy dearly. "There's an ultrasound in two weeks to check in and they say they can tell us the sex then."

"They can?" Shane smiled hopefully, his eyes lifting to watch Lori.

"Yes, they can." Maybe it was just the lighting in the room but when those two looked at each other there were sparks and glitter and fires burning between them. They exchanged looks of passion so strong and so perfect that Rick finally let it click. Shane and Lori were in love. What Rick and Lori had together, whatever it was, was nothing in comparison. Shane and Lori were perfect for each other. That's when Rick finally decided that Lori wasn't meant for him. Lori wasn't fit to patch the wounds in his aching heart and Lori was no longer his. They were over. Forever.

"What do you think, Rick?" Shane glanced over to him, "You ready to find out?"

"Sure I am." Rick laughed. He hated laughing like everything was okay. He hated pretending that he wasn't falling apart from the inside out and he hated that no one could tell he was internally weeping.

"Hey, Dad?" Carl was standing beside him and Rick was suddenly questioning how long he had been there.

"What's up, Carl?"

"Um," Carl looked uncertain and a bit sheepish, his fingers twitching into fists and his shoes shuffling and toeing at each other. "I want to invite Daryl. He promised he would go."

"We haven't seen Daryl in awhile, sweetheart," Lori leaned against the table, "I'm sure he's busy."

Shane nodded stiffly.

"So!" Carl snapped, his insecurity wearing on him, "He promised! He said he was going to wait for my invitation!"

Lori seemed taken aback and ready to snap back, but Rick intervened. It was almost his son's birthday. It was the least he could do. "When do you want to ask him?"

"Right now." Carl replied sharply.

"Do you have his number?"

"No." Carl looked back down at his shoes and sighed, "He doesn't really use his phone anyway. He keeps it in his kitchen drawer and never takes it out unless it's an emergency."

"So, what do you suggest?" For some reason, Rick was just as eager and anxious to get Daryl to this party so he ran with it, letting himself get enveloped into the rash actions of his child.

"We could just go over there?" Carl shrugged, "It's only half way past eleven and Glenn said Daryl's shift at the restaurant doesn't start until six."

"When did you ever talk to Glenn about Daryl's schedule?"

"Remember that day I ran away to Daryl's house?"

"Yeah."

"That's when."

"Oh."

"I say we pop in over at his apartment right now and see if he's home." Carl set his hands up on his hip

"Didn't you promise him a formal birthday card, though?"

"I'll go grab my materials while you fix your hair!" Carl was already half way up the stairs, "You look like a monkey! Put some decent clothes on, too! You don't want Daryl to see you in an old man shirt and I don't want to be seen in public with you like that either!"

Rick looked down at his shirt and reached up to brush and hand through his hair at the same time, suddenly very self-conscious of everything. "I need to change." He muttered to himself as he jumped to his feet.

"You are _not _serious, Rick!" Lori pulled herself to her feet and watched her husband and son rush around the house in a frenzy.

"I'm completely serious." Rick answered her from down the hall as he stripped off his shirt and ruffled up his hair into different, odd styles in front of the mirror.

"Sit down and think this through." Lori shouted, "Do you really think it's a good idea to bring that man to our house!"

Rick paid her no mind as he dashed into his closet, picked out a shirt, tried it on, discarded it and tried another. He rushed out of the room again and went back to combing his fingers through his hair. The thought of seeing Daryl again sparking fires inside of him that couldn't be put out.

"Rick, look at yourself!" Lori hissed.

"What?" Rick blinked, "Does this shirt look bad?" Doubt crossed his mind and he was off to the closet before Lori could respond.

"You're insane, Rick!" Lori shook her head. "Look at yourself!" She called after him again.

Rick came out wearing a nice, plain shirt that complimented his form and hugged at his muscles, "Does this one look alright?" He didn't seem to be hearing his wife, he just kept tugging hopefully at his clothing and glancing in reflective surfaces.

"You look fine, Dad." Carl said from the balcony upstairs. In his hands he cradles a pencil bad full of Crayons and a wad of printer paper. "Let's go."

"Do you need me to come with you?"

"Sorry, Shane." Carl said as he pounded down the stairs and assessed his father's new look, "Nobody needs to be pushed in front of a car today, but if your skills are necessary at another time I'll let you know." Carl waited by the mat for his father to catch up with him. Once his father was beside him Carl gave him a quick once over and nodded in satisfaction. They were out the door in seconds.

"They've finally lost it." Lori sighed dreadfully and fell into her seat.

XxxX

"So, who did you invite to the party so far?" Rick asked as he manned the steering wheel.

"Sophia's coming, some kids from school, Beth-"

"You should invite Duane." Rick smiled.

"Why?"

" Because he's very nice and I'm good friends with his dad."

Carl shot him a look and rolled his eyes, "He's a nerd."

"A nerd?" Rick raised a brow, "How is Duane a nerd?"

"He's always polite." Carl informed him, "It's weird."

"Being polite is weird? Since when?"

Carl kept his head looking down at his lap as he balanced a notebook and his make shift formal birthday invitation on his legs carefully. His bag of Crayons sat open over on the empty cup holders and he reached over to switch colors occasionally. "Since forever, Dad."

"I think you, Sophia and Duane would be really great friends if you gave it a chance." Rick laughed.

"C'mon-"

"Please, Carl? For me?"

"I'm making sure Daryl's coming for you."

"No, you're making sure Daryl is coming because you want him to come."

"Yeah, but it's also because you need to get laid." Carl announced nonchalantly while he switched his red Crayon in for blue. He didn't want all of the balloons on the card to be just one color. That was lame.

Rick choked and nearly swerved his truck into a pole, "What!"

"Oh, come on, Dad." Carl sighed, "If it isn't obvious to everyone than it's at least obvious to me. I know you're trying to hide the fact that you and Mom aren't in love any more." Carl said finally, a twinge of sadness in his voice, "That doesn't mean you're unlovable. It just means that that relationship isn't working out."

Rick regained control of his senses and settled down a bit. He didn't respond to Carl immediately and instead just listened to what his boy had to say.

"Maybe once what you had with Mom was special, but now it's not. I can tell. You don't look at each other the same way anymore." Carl's coloring slowed as he thought. "You look at Daryl like that sometimes. You looked at him that way when we were at his restaurant."

"How do I look at him?"

"Like he's the most beautiful thing you've ever seen."

Rick chewed over his son's response slowly and soaked in the silence in the car. He felt blessed that his son quieted at just the right moment and let him think.

XxxX

"Get up, Merle." Daryl growled and kicked at his couch. "Yer late fer work and I can't fill fer ya today."

Merle had a bad habit of crashing at his brother's place when he was too drunk, too high or too lazy to find his own way home after a late night. The night before had been one of those not so rare exceptions when he had stumbled into Daryl's apartment on a cocktail of all three.

Daryl had found him banging ruthlessly at his door at three in the morning, swearing and singing at the top of his lungs and laughing as if he found himself the most hilariously entertaining thing in the entire world.

The neighbors weren't too happy with him. Daryl didn't really expect any different, though.

Merle snored like a bear. Merle kept his boots on and shuffled through his apartment and tracked mud everywhere and curled his dirty feet up on the couch when he slept. He was hard to wake up and a bitch to wake up with. He drank all the coffee and he snarled about hating the world and hating working and hating morning people.

Daryl could sit and list his brother's flaws for hours, but that wouldn't get him anywhere and that wouldn't wake the sleeping oaf up.

"A' said get up!" Daryl growled and swatted Merle over the head with a rolled up newspaper. "Ima put tha coffee on and if I come back here and yer still asleep Ima dump it on yer stupid, fuckin' head!"

Merle's morning routines were always absolutely predictable. He didn't wake up and Daryl made coffee and toast and finished breakfast and Merle didn't move.

Daryl sighed as he finished off his mug of coffee. It was his favorite mug. One with a picture of a couple of double barreled shotguns crossing in an X and the words 'License to Kill' bolded out below. He set it down on the counter.

When he went back over to the couch he plunged his hands underneath his brother's warm body and pushed and pulled the lump of flesh and bone until it tumbled off onto the floor. Merle grunted and shifted into a comfortable position on the carpet and went on sleeping.

Daryl gave a frustrated growl because he really hadn't been in the mood to get out the mop, but he finally gave in once the clock struck eleven and Merle kept on snoring. Daryl went to the pantry, picked out his favorite bucket filled it in the sink and just out of spite, added a handful of ice cubes. He dumped it on his brother's head without a single twinge of regret.

Merle woke with a start and a swear.

"Get yer ass up and out ma fuckin' door before I break every bone in that stupid body a' yers." Daryl yelled, tossing the bucket to the side and listening to it's plastic body hit the floor softly.

XxxX

Randall wasn't sitting at the desk by the door when Carl and his father walked in. The spot was vacant.

Carl didn't really care. It didn't effect him. As long as that creepy kid wasn't watching him, everything was fine. He was slightly disappointed that he couldn't show off the fact that he had his policeman daddy on one arm and a kick ass redneck on the other, though.

Rick followed his son and let the many questions that were building up in his head die on the tip of his tongue. He didn't really want to know how Carl had gotten Daryl's address and made it through the dodgy part of town two months before.

The stair case was empty and the hallway on the third floor was as well.

Carl led him to the first door, a soft mixed wood that looked firm enough. The handle was old. No longer shiny new. Years of this building's chaos had done its damage, though the doors that lined down the hall didn't look as old as the building. They had probably been replaced.

The carpet, too. It was old fashioned, certainly, but looked only about as old as Carl. It had a tacky design that made Rick feel a little nauseous. Maybe it was just the way the vile greens clashed with the dirty oranges.

The father and son duo stood in front of Daryl's door and exchanged matching nervous looks.

"Do I look alright?" Rick shrugged.

Carl cocked his head to the side and looked him over. He reached out on his tippy toes until Rick leaned down and let him fix his hair. His little fingers tugged and yanked at a few out of place locks and then worked to fix his collar. Eventually they pulled apart and stood up straight again. "There. You look great."

Rick nodded, "Okay. Good." He looked at the door handle and wondered if he should just walk in. After rethinking the option he recognized it for the psychotic idea that it was and cast it to the side.

"Knock." Carl reminded him, as if he knew that his father's basic motor functions were powering down.

"Right." Rick curled his hand into a fist and raised it to the door.

"Get yer ass up and out ma fuckin' door before A' break every bone in that stupid body a' yers." The shouting voice was clearly Daryl. His tone was unmistakable.

Another voice, one much gruffer, responded with a dark laugh that promised bodily harm and permanent damage, "Oh, c'mon Darlynna! Ya need ta relax! Take tha day off, kick back, have sum fun!" The other man's accent was southern, like Daryl's, but much, much thicker.

"Fuckin' ay, Merle!" Daryl snarled, "Yer already high, any more of tha' stuff an yer gonna overdose!"

Rick nearly reeled back.

"Jus' cause you don't like tha stuff doesn't mean everyone around ya has ta take on yer pure, pussy ass personality." Merle responded with a mocking snort.

Daryl's accent was richer than the last time Rick had heard him. It was more significant than two months ago, like somebody had turned up his 'hick'. It would have sounded beautiful if it weren't for the constant swears and drug references that tumbled out with it.

"A' ain't no pussy!" Daryl snapped back. "Ma died doin' tha' stuff and I'll be damned if Ima end up like tha'!"

Technically it wasn't eavesdropping. Rick wasn't leaning in to hear the conversation exchanged between the two men, he wasn't listening intently or being uncommonly quite in order to catch everything. They were shouting loud enough for the whole building to hear. It wasn't Rick's fault he had heard something that was probably very private.

"S'long as ya got control of yerself than yer fine!" Merle retorted, more amused than he should have been. "Tha' bitch had the self restraint of a hungry, rabid mutt!"

Rick could feel the silence stretching between the two. It was pronounced and concrete and tense. Rick felt Carl still beside him.

"It's time fer you ta go ta work, Merle." Daryl's voice was suddenly too close to the door and Rick had no time to pull back and regroup before the only thing separating them was pulled open.

The look that crossed Daryl's face was like a kid who had been caught with his hand in the cookie jar and was about to have a personal meeting with his father's belt because of it.

Rick tried to smile at Daryl, aiming for a sheepish, if not slightly awkward grin, but it came out as a look that screamed 'well, shit'.

Merle was a tall man, with long, broad shoulders and a square jaw. He matched his voice to the letter, his looks the solid manifestation of his deep, throaty tone. He probably drove a motorcycle and was the type of man woman wanted to find a soft spot in. Only, he didn't have a soft spot. If his demonic, dilated eyes were anything to go by, this man was dead inside and wanted nothing more than a cruel, painful end for anyone he came into contact with. A rough, tough, mean fighting machine.

He was the poster boy for men everywhere.

"Ello." was all he said. He was standing a few feet behind Daryl with an impish leer on his face. His lips kept twitching. Maybe he was holding back laughter or maybe it was just a medical thing, but it looked an awful lot like it just hurt this man to smile.

"Hello." Rick responded. He kept the word trimmed and sharp, trying to communicate to this 'Merle' character that he wanted nothing to do with him.

"Nice boy ya got ther'." Merle smirked, motioning lazily to Carl. "He know how ta hunt yet?"

Carl opened his mouth to answer for himself, but at that moment, Rick placed a hand on his shoulder tensely and Daryl reared back to glower at the other man.

"Get out'a here, Merle or I swear ta-"

"I'm goin', I'm goin'." Merle held out his large, rugged hands in a phony surrender, "Don't get yer panties in'a bunch!"

Daryl sneered at him as he brushed past him and Rick and Rick's son, "Don't fergit ta actually go ta work. If ya get fired again I'm not gonna help ya this time."

"Ya say tha' every time, brotha." Merle said, "And ya still always got ma back."

"Get out'a here."

Merle finally headed down the hall and towards the stairs, but before he disappeared all together, he shot a look of curiosity and content over his shoulder and at Rick.

Rick met his eyes with a predatory stare. He didn't mean to and he didn't really notice but his eyes were brimming with warning and protectiveness and unspoken threats. A miniscule, momentary look of shock passed across Merle's face but was gone in an instant. Along with the man himself.

Then the three of them just stood there.

Daryl looked like he was doing equations in his head. Judging by the way his eyes kept darting around and narrowing, they must have been rather difficult.

Carl was looking up at Daryl with such awe. One day, it was going to be hard for him to wake up and realize that Daryl was actually a human being with flaws and normal people problems.

And, Rick. Rick was just so, so relieved to be back in Daryl's presence. He didn't even think about that other man or the drugs or Daryl's dead mother. He just wanted to hug the man. He just wanted to pull Daryl into his arms and breath and scream and hold him there forever.

Daryl cleared his throat. He didn't say anything. Maybe he just wanted to put something out there. Something to think about.

"Hey, Daryl!" Carl blurted out. His tiny, little arms propped up and he flashed the man his home made card. "I told you I would bring you my birthday party invitation!"

Daryl blinked and watched Carl's face for a second. He scanned over the kid's face to make sure he was serious and then timidly reached out to grab the folded paper as if it would bite him.

The wounds on his knuckles and lips and eyes had healed over the two months. The only evidence that there ever was a fight between Shane was the few rough scars on the back of his hands and the soft line on his lower lip where his cut hadn't healed very well.

"You are invited ta Carl's twelfth birthday party." Daryl read aloud dully.

"Dammit!" Carl swore suddenly, "That was supposed to say 'thirteenth'! I keep getting everything mixed up!"

"You and me both, kid." Daryl said dryly and scoffed at a joke that only he really understood.

"It's this Saturday." Carl smiled, "Are you going to come?"

"Uh," Daryl opened the card and read through the address and the times and the special notes. "I'm not-"

"It won't just be kids there!" Carl jumped to say, "There will be adults there, too! You can help with the Bar-B-Q and sit by the pool and just talk! Grown ups like to just talk, so there will be plenty of that!"

Daryl's teeth gnawed on his inner cheek, tearing softly at the skin in thought, "I didn't think you were serious when ya asked me tha first time."

"Of course I was!" Carl said, "I'm always serious! I still want you to take me and my dad camping, too, but that can wait."

Daryl's eyes flicked over to Rick and searched for help but Rick only smiled encouragingly. Daryl didn't accept any of that so he aimed at bringing Rick into the conversation verbally, "Are ya alright with this, Rick?"

"Absolutely."

"You don't even have to bring me a present or anything!" Carl informed him. "All I want is for you to show up, have some dinner, talk, maybe stick around for desert?"

"Look, I-" Daryl tried to let the kid down gently, but as soon as he started with the 'this isn't working' tone the boy's eyes got all curved and disappointed like a kicked puppy. He looked down at the card again and ran his fingers across the cover discreetly. He wondered how much time the kid had put into it.

"Please come!" Carl pouted. "You don't have to do anything but show up."

"It's just-'

"Please!"

"I can't just-"

"I get it." Carl's voice completely changed to one of absolute disappointment, his frame deflating to a limp bag of sad. "You're busy. That's fine."

"Kid-"

"Thanks anyway."

Carl turned around and refused to look back and Daryl knew he was being duped and he just couldn't believe it was working, "Only fer an hour." The kid exploded into a fit of cheers and a neighbor somewhere down the hall poked there head out and glared at them for a second.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you!" Carl screamed and span around and hugged him around the waist. Daryl immediately felt uncomfortable and tried to hide his unapproachable demeanor behind an awkward shuffle and a hand carding through his hair.

"Yeah, just... don't make me regret it." Daryl sighed.

"I wont!" Carl beamed up at him, "I promise it'll be awesome!" He whispered something about Sophia going to be jealous and it really hit Daryl that getting involved with Rick was going to be an all or nothing thing. That's what really scared him.

He was a 'one foot in the grave, one foot in his mouth' kind of guy. He couldn't tie himself down and ruin the lives of someone like Rick and someone like Carl.

Daryl brought nothing but death and destruction where ever he went and bringing himself down on to their doorstep was nothing short of heartless.

That's why he had been avoiding Rick. Because he didn't want to break him.

But then, Rick gave him a smile that almost made it worth it.

XxxX

**A/N-** I really thought this chapter would go differently when I started writing it, but I hope you like it all the same. Most of the issues brought up should be confronted in the next chapter or two and speaking of which, the next chapter might be split in two. I reallt don't know. My rule is that anything over 8,000 words (with exceptions) is split in half.

I've posted up the first chapter of a new Walking Dead story! It's about Rick, Daryl, Glenn and Shane who are all strangers, but end up buying a run down home together thanks to the bad economy and trying to scrap up enough money for mortgage, electricity, new appliances, food and a couple of unpredicted things. It's another Rick/Daryl Au, guys! Check it out!  
So yeah, I know I was telling you about all of my ideas in the last chapter, but this plot idea hit me out of nowhere and I fell in love with it!

So review if you can, and I'll see ya'll next time!


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N- **I changed my avatar since last I updated this! You notice?~

Thank you so much **Idril Isil Gilgalad**, **TasteOfVanilla**, **SortaKindaArtsyIntrovert**, **DreamBiggerDarlingAE**, **RejectedShyRebel18**, **Marion**, **crazyjayjay**, **kaszz-chan**, **MinuteCloser2Failing**, **Niveas**, **DeDe324**, **simplegay me**, **Riku-Aura777**, **Dreaming Ani**, **Silver Mirror**, **velvetemr73**, **KagXmi**, and **writerchick0214**! How is it that you guys manage to make my day and make writing this fic so much fun!

With this chapter I may just hit 100 reviews!

And, **KagXmi**, welcome to the Rick/Daryl band wagon. *smirk*

XxxX

"The aftermath of joy is not usually more joy."  
_Mason Cooley_

XxxX

**Dollface-**

Carl's birthday party arrived subtly. It wasn't until hours before it began that Rick actually woke up out of his daze and got excited.

Carl had certainly been excited. He bustled around and tried to stay on his mother's good side while alternatively getting into the party food she had demanded stay stored away until the guests started arriving.

Lori was standing over the counter laying out cheese and crackers and waiting for the mopped floors in the kitchen to dry. She flexed her bare toes as she concentrated.

Rick wound up the vacuum cord and stashed it away, eyeing the house and it's attractively clean state. It wasn't very often that the Grimes family was able to see their home in a presentable manor.

The house was spotless and ready to be trashed.

"You need any help over there, Lori?" Rick turned to watch his wife cut half a brick of cheddar into tiny square pieces. He had put a lot of thought into what his son had told him in the car earlier that week and he had found out it was true. When he was looking at his wife he almost felt his eyes glaze over with something that was no longer love. He hadn't been sure what it was, but it certainly wasn't fondness or anything of the sort.

"I'm fine." Lori called over her shoulder without taking her sight of the knife, "Do you have enough gas for the Bar-B-Q?"

Rick nodded even though he knew his wife wasn't looking. "Yeah, I refilled the tank yesterday."

"Good." Lori praised, wiping off her hands on a nearby dish cloth. She picked up the cutting board and placed it on the table next the fresh fruit and vegetable platter. "What else do we need?" She set he hands on her hips and scanned the room over thoughtfully.

Rick shrugged, "I don't know, you've done a perfect job planning everything out." he moved over to Lori's side. "Everything looks great."

Before he could get too close, Lori turned to him. "Is the pool clean?" she asked, "If not, can you send Carl out to clean it before people get here?"

Rick gave her a tight smile and pushed off the counter, "Of course."

Carl was already in his swimming trunks and dancing around the pool frantically. Rick padded outside and slipped the sliding screen door closed behind him. Carl looked up and grinned at him when he heard him approach.

"Aren't you excited, Dad!" Carl smirked and did a little awkward dance.

Rick laughed heartily and reached down to get a beer from one of the coolers set out on the deck, "Yeah, I am. Do you think you're going to get everything you want?"

"Everything and more!" Carl cheered.

Rick dropped down in one of the wooden lawn chairs beside the Bar-B-Q and popped open his drink with the bottle opener he had left on the table, "Would you mind getting all of the leaves and garbage out of the pool with the skimmer?"

Carl loved playing with the skimmer. Even when there wasn't trash he would pull it out and play as if there were. Even then, when only half a dozen leaves and a small wrapper were floating around, it would probably take Carl fifteen minutes to do his job for the sheer sake of goofing off.

The kid leapt to the long pole without a word and started his little chore without complaint.

Shane showed up while Carl was still playing around, with beer and presents in hand. Carl bumbled over quickly at the sight of him and scooped his gift out of Shane's hand.

"I'll put this on the present table for you." Carl said impishly and Shane narrowed a playful brow.

"No peeking, kiddo."

"No promises!" Carl rushed off, all forgiven in the excitement.

"He's talking to you again." Rick murmured.

Shane laughed gleefully, "Presents will do that to kids."

Rick smiled at his best friend painfully, his empty eyes gave away his lack of sincerity but Shane acted as if he didn't notice.

"You crakin' the beer open already?" Shane gave a deep laugh from the bottom of his belly and lifted up his six pack in cheers. "Mind if I join you?"

"Go right ahead."

Shane yanked a can off of his pack and dropped the rest in the ice bin with the others to chill. He took the seat opposite of Rick's and watched the water in the pool wave with the slight wind.

"It's a nice day for a Bar-B-Q." Shane noted, glancing up at the sun and the few clouds that loitered in the sky.

Rick hummed in agreement and drank to that.

"We'll have to make sure Carl puts on sun screen before he gets in the pool." Shane laughed, "We don't want him walking around red as a tomato for the next few weeks!"

"I'll make sure." Rick agreed.

Shane cleared his throat and tugged on the loose material at the neck of his shirt, "Man," he turned a bit and looked Rick in the eye, "there aren't any hard feeling between us two, are there?"

Shane was never known for his subtly or his compassion. When he wanted something he said so. When he told a story, he got straight to the point.

"No hard feelings." Rick agreed again.

"You don't sound very convinced yourself." Shane said.

Rick eyed his friend like a cat would a dumpster. As if he was hoping to find something worthwhile if he risked getting his hands dirty. He took a small sip of his booze and licked his lips. He turned to his best friend and sincerely spoke, "Shane, what you've done to my family, what you've done to me is unforgivable."

Shane flinched like he had been hit and Rick took a moment before he continued.

"But I forgive you." Rick kept it short and sweet and waited for Shane to let his words truly sink in.

"What?" the look on Shane's face showed clearly the shock that was coursing through him.

"I forgive you." Rick repeated. He reached over and clapped his friend on the back. He heard his chair squeak a little under his shifting weight.

Shane looked up from the ground to meet Rick's gaze. His eyes were warm and hopeful and scared. "Are you... are you serious?" The disbelief in his tone was obvious.

"I am serious." Rick nodded and pulled away again.

"Thank you." Shane gasped, tears pooled a bit around his eyes. He was so relieved. "Thank you so much. I promise I will make everything up to you."

Rick took in a mouth full of his beer and swallowed, "Yeah."

"I mean, I've been such an ass to you lately." Shane continued, "After everything you forgive me?"

Rick nodded again.

"God," Shane ran his free hand over his face, "you're such a good friend."

Shane jumped to his feet and pulled Rick up with him. He pulled him into an odd, familiar embrace. Rick stood there for awhile, basking in his best friend's humble scent. It took him back to college days and high school memories and to the good old times. He hugged back firmly and suddenly everything really was forgiven.

"Good to see you two have kissed and made up." Morgan's voice came from the sliding door, "I've heard stories that you two were fighting about something."

Rick gently pulled away from Shane and gave Morgan the first genuine smile since he had last seen Daryl, "Yeah. All is good."

Shane sniffed loudly and wiped his face down with the back of his hand, "Yeah, everything is good." He pulled himself up into his tallest pose, trying to look as masculine as possible.

"Good." Morgan slid outside and closed the door behind him, "What were you two bickering about, anyway?"

"Nothing much." Rick and Shane answered in union. They glanced at each other.

"Alright." Morgan shrugged nonchalantly, "Need to know, I can get with that."

Rick smiled. He liked Morgan. He was respectful, kind, trustworthy and laid back. When the Grimes first moved into the neighborhood, the Jones family had been the first and the only to welcome them. Rick and Morgan had hit it off along with their wives.

"Where's Jenny?" Shane coughed, trying to clear away the awkwardness that was no longer actually there.

"She's in the kitchen." Morgan smiled. He did that whenever he thought of his wife. "I think Lori talked her into cracking open the wine early."

"Lori's not drinking any is she?" Shane asked as he tipped his head to look inside nervously.

"No, I think I saw her with a water bottle." Morgan told him.

Rick chuckled, "Well, we've already brought out the beer. You want one?"

Shane was already digging through the cooler, sticking his hand to the bottom to get a bottle that was thoroughly cold. He tossed it over and Morgan caught it quickly.

"Thanks." Morgan held out his drink while Rick popped it open with his bottle opener one handed.

"Did Duane find Carl?" Rick was still a little worried about how Carl would act in the face of Duane's politeness.

"They're over by the present table making guesses." Morgan laughed huskily. "You know kids."

Rick joined him with a chuckle and shook his head, "I think next time we should be more conspicuous in our wrappings."

"Maybe buy boxes for our boxes and wrap it in seven layers?" Shane suggested with a snort.

Rick laughed, "We could get a couple of those weirdly shaped boxes and make a gift look like a giant heart."

"They would never guess what it was." Morgan agreed with a smirk.

"Hey, did you guys catch the game last week?" Shane smiled over at Rick, "Dominique scored the most kick ass touch down!"

"I didn't see it." Morgan sighed, "I promised Duane I would take him to the zoo that day."

Rick patted him on the back, "I missed it too. Lori asked me to clean up the front lawn."

"You guys are pussy whipped, let me be the one to tell you." Shane threw his hands up in defeat, "This is what parenthood and marriage does to a man."

"Speaking of parenthood," Morgan turned to Rick, "Lori looks good. How far along is she?"

"A little over two months." Rick told him as he scratched the back of his neck.

"She looks beautiful." Morgan smiled, "You're a lucky man."

Times like this made Rick's stomach churn with turmoil. He wanted to share everything with Morgan, wanted to tell him what was wrong, but at the same time he really didn't want to. "I know."

Rick tried not to notice how Shane glanced at him from the corner of his eye, and he tired pretended that he didn't glance back.

"Should we check on the girls?" Morgan asked, already turning to head inside like he could feel the uneven air between the other two guys.

Rick and Shane followed him in. They could hear Lori and Jenny laughing before they could see the kitchen. They were sipping on their drinks and telling jokes and making dishes to set out on the table. Lori, mixing a bowl of home made chip dip and Jenny unwrapping the paper plates and plastic cups.

"How my sweetheart doing?" Morgan asked lovingly as he moved to his wife's side and kissed her cheek tenderly.

Jenny smiled brightly and leaned into Morgan's touch, humming softy and hiding a mischievous chuckle, "I'm doing fine. I see you've already found the beer."

"Guilty as charged." Morgan smirked and pecked another kiss behind Jenny's ear.

Rick felt like he was being upstaged, but he didn't know how to act like that around Lori anymore.

Lori shot him a look that he couldn't read.

Sophia and her parents arrived seconds later. The little girl bounded eagerly into the living room as if she already knew where Carl would be. Carol, with wide, deer like eyes, muddled into the door after her and stopped to look around dazedly until she noticed the others. She trailed into the kitchen with her big, beast of a husband trudging after her.

The air in the room went a little stale at the sight of Ed.

Almost everyone in town knew Ed. Those who did wished they didn't and those who didn't could count their lucky stars. The man was a varmint and was treated as such.

The large, hand shaped bruises that ran across Carol's arms spoke for themselves, and even if someone wasn't quick enough to catch onto that, the tense air between the spouses would fill them in. Anytime Ed so much as cleared his throat Carol would flinch and whimper.

It was sad. Rick had tried to put an end to it minutes after meeting the mismatched couple but when he had approached Carol on the subject, she shied away and begged him to keep it to himself. He felt guilty for listening to her, but he had already decided that if he ever so much as pondered if Ed was getting worse he would go to the police immediately. Though, he was the police. He would deal with the problem personally.

Sometimes he feared he would be too late, and by the time he got Carol and Sophia help, Ed would have already permanently damaged his family. Or worse.

Those kind of thoughts haunted his dreams.

"We brought cupcakes." Carol told them softly as she slipped a tray covered in saran wrap onto the counter in between the Cheetos and the cheese.

"That's very sweet of you." Lori smiled, "Thank you very much."

Carol nodded and retreated back as if falling into line. She looked up at Ed for an order but he just grunted down at her and wandered off to look for alcohol. Or at least, that's what Rick assumed he was doing.

"You want a glass of wine, Carol?" Jenny asked. She headed over to the cupboard and reached for a glass before Carol could answer. She handed her the half filled cup before she could stutter out her acceptance.

Rick could hear the kids jumping into the pool and then splashing around as they ran out and jumped in again. He could hear Carl calling for a competition to see who could make a better splash.

Things settled down for a bit and people mingled and not soon after the house was bustling with faces and families and food and presents for Carl. The table in the back was stacked tall with a mountain of gifts and Carl was buzzing from person to person like a busy bee, asking questions and pulling anyone his age out to the pool.

Lori handed Rick a plate of raw meat and shooed him and the boys out to the Bar-B-Q. "You get started on the food," she had said, "and keep an eye on the kids will you? Make sure all of them are still breathing."

Rick nodded and, with Shane and Morgan tagging along, made his way back to the porch.

The kids were screaming. As far as Rick could tell, they were all being eaten alive by sharks and alligators because there was no other excuse to be that loud.

They weren't though. They were just dunking heads under the water and squealing and playing an unpleasantly loud game of Marco Polo.

Rick started up the gas for the grill and glanced at his watch. It was only five, but that was good enough. The flames started and licked at the walls and the bars on the Bar-B-Q, sending a heated breeze of a burning charcoal and propane smell into the air.

Taking the bar brush, Rick cleaned off the wires quickly and shut the lid to let it heat.

The sun was reaching the tips of the trees when Rick finally found a seat on the table with a fresh, cold beer in his hands. He popped it open and took a deep swig.

"We should make a fire later tonight." Morgan motioned to the fire pit just past the pool. "Maybe the kids could roast some smores or something."

"We don't have the stuff for smores." Rick murmured and Morgan just shrugged like that really didn't matter. "That sounds like a great idea though."

"Cheers to that." Shane lifted his beer in a mock salute and put it back to his lips.

"How about we get it lit once the meats done." Rick shrugged.

There were two or three dozen groups of adults mingling in the backyard and probably more in the house. Groups ranging from three to ten people were littered all around his property and a swarm of children were racing around, jumping in the pool, rushing out, chasing each other up the stairs, back down and repeating the process.

Rick could already tell it would take more effort to clean up the house in the aftermath of the party then it did getting it ready.

"So," Morgan swirled the beer around in his bottle, "how long until you and Lori can find out what gender the baby is?"

"Two weeks." Shane informed him excitedly and Morgan shot him a look.

Shane tried to steady the conversation but was interrupted by a little boy who poked at his ribcage. Shane turned to him and cocked his head to the side inquisitorially.

"Can I get in the cooler?" the kid asked. He didn't seem to mind the fact the he was absolutely soaked and a large puddle of water was forming underneath him.

Shane looked down at his seat, conveniently the cooler in question, and nodded. He stood and allowed the kid to dig in the ice for a can of Sprite and plopped down again when the kid had run off.

"Kids these days have no manors." Shane leaned back and toyed with the handle of the ice chest at his right. "No please or thank you, just 'give me what I want and fuck off'."

"Tell me you were any different at that age and your argument will be valid." Rick responded slyly.

Morgan grunted his agreement, "I know I was a terrible kid. I swore like a sailor."

"I don't believe that." Rick tilted the top of his beer in Morgan's direction, "You're too nice."

"I wasn't nice twenty years ago."

"My mother told me I was a good kid until I turned thirteen. Then the teenager in me kicked in and I was a rebel." Shane threw in proudly. "Maybe this is the year Carl turns on you, man."

"Carl's never going to grow up." Rick shook his head and joked, "He's going to stay my little boy forever."

"You sound like a girl, Rick." Shane chortled.

Morgan shrugged, "I don't know. Sounds about right to me. I don't want Duane to ever grow up and not need me anymore."

Shane meowed like a cat and made a sound with his lips to portray a whip cracking, "Pussy whipped into girls."

"You wont understand until you have a kid." Morgan scolded him teasingly.

Shane immediately quieted down and turned back to his drink.

"Hey, Dad?" Carl stood in front of Rick with a mop of rugged, wet hair and a tint of a sun burn blushed on his face. Water was dripping off of his trunks, his nose, his eyelashes, everywhere. "When's Daryl going to be here?"

Rick stilled for a second and fiddled with his beer bottle for a while because he didn't know the answer.

Shane stiffened at his side and Morgan shot him a curious glance.

"Who's Daryl?" Morgan asked.

Shane started, "Some asshole that-"

"Daryl is not an asshole." Carl barked coldly and Shane backed down like he knew his place. "I just want to know when he's going to be here, not start an argument with you, assbutt!"

"Assbutt?" Rick inquired curiously.

Shane reeled back a bit and dropped the subject completely.

"Dad, when's he going to be here?"

Duane and Sophia popped out from inside the house in their soaked suits, and they both shot Carl excited looks.

"Did you ask about Daryl?" Sophia questioned as she jumped to fill her space at Carl's side.

Duane stepped in line next to them and nodded, "Is he coming?"

Morgan furrowed a brow and chuckled, "Well, now I'm really curious."

"Have you met Daryl before, Dad?" Duane turned to his father with bright, innocent eyes.

"I have no idea who that is, Duane." Morgan shrugged hopelessly, "Should I?"

"Yes!" The three jumped to answer all at the same time.

Morgan gave a puzzled gesture, "Please, then. Inform me."

And Carl went right to it like he had mesmerized a speech. "Daryl Dixon saved me and Sophia's life two and a half months ago when we snuck away from school and went to a gas station to pick up snacks. He was the clerk there and-"

Morgan gave Rick a look that told him he already knew how bad an influence the kids were going to be on his son.

"And a gunman tried to rob the place and he saved us!" Sophia interupted dreamily.

"I'm telling the story!" Carl whined.

"Says who!" Sophia slapped her hands to her hips.

"I'm the birthday boy!" As if this was the highest rank Sophia backed off immediately. "So," Carl turned to Morgan again, "after he defeated the gunman with his own two hands like a champion boxer he walked off on the police 'cause he was busy! It was like he totally owned the place!"

"Like he was the boss!" Sophia added.

"Like a superhero!" Duane gasped as if he, too, had witnessed it.

Morgan rubbed at few stray strands of facial hear on his chin, "I remember seeing that on the news a while back, now that you bring it up."

"That's not really how it went though." Shane spoke up. Well placed glares from the three kids shut him up.

"Me and my family and Shane went out to lunch a while later and we met him at the resaurant!" Carl told him excitedly, "Turns out, he works there too! As a waiter! He told us this story about how he and his brother would collect coins in this huge jar and go to arcades and kick ass at ski ball."

"Language." Rick reminded calmly.

"Daryl promised he would teach me how to play, but we haven't gone back yet." Carl admited sadly, and then perked up, "Me and Sophia went back alone, once, though! I ran away 'cause I got in a fight and I didn't want everyone to be mad at me, but Daryl said I was in the right, so it's no problem now. We went to the restaurant, but Daryl wasn't there so I got help from Glenn, his really nice co-worker and he gave us his address 'cause he thought it was for my dad, which I don't really understand, but that reminds me, Dad, Glenn said he was routing for you."

Rick wasn't paying much attention to the story until that point, too busy trying to figure out how Carl is able to say all of that without taking a breath. When he did hear that, though he choked a little and Shane and Morgan shot him analytical looks.

"Anyway, we got to Daryl's apartment, which is really crappy and old, but he makes it look awesome with his awesomeness, and there was this creepy kid at the front desk, but Daryl scared him and he wasn't there when we went back a couple of days ago." Carl finally gasped for breath and filled his lungs as he continued his story, "Daryl took care of me and Sophia and got us ice cream and lunch and let us hang out in the park and he let us make wishes in the fountain, too. I'm not allowed to tell you what I wished for otherwise it wont come true."

Shane tensed up again when he realized Carl was bound to go into full detail about the next scene.

"Apparently, that's when Dad and Shane found out we were missing and came looking for me and Sophia and Shane found us first and pushed Daryl in front of a car."

Morgan glanced over at Shane.

"But, Daryl was alright." Carl continued happily, "He got up and punched Shane a whole bunch and I called my Dad and he showed up and told Shane to take Sophia home and then brought Daryl here to fix him up. He left when Shane showed up and started threatening to kill him again."

Sophia, Carl and Duane threw Shane similar dirty looks.

"I brought Daryl a birthday invitation a few days ago and he promised he was coming! So, Dad, do you know when he's going to be here?"

Morgan gaped and let all of the crazy, over exagerated information process in his head. It took him awhile, but eventually everything clicked into place and he was caught up.

Shane, looking for anything to do but be apart of the conversation, stood and went to put the meat on the grill.

"I don't know, Carl." Rick finally admitted, after he, too, adjusted to the information. "He may not be able to come. Something may have come up, or he might be busy."

The kids deflated like a couple of airless balloons.

"But he promised he would come!" Carl objected.

"Daryl is an unpredictable man." Rick told them, "He could just be running late."

Carl seemed to revive at the thought and he turned to his friends, "He's just running late is all!"

Sophia and Duane shared bright grins and all three of them cheered and ran off to raid the snacks or jump back in the pool or swap more heroic adventure tales.

"So, I have a feeling this Daryl guy isn't exactly the hero that those kids think he is." Morgan noted aloud. He turned to face Rick and Rick only smiled.

"He's an asshole and a bad influence." Shane grumbled darkly as he dropped the last meat patty on the grill and closed it.

"He's nice and he can handle children." Rick countered.

"He's a menace."

"The kids look up to him."

"He will be the death of them." Shane hissed. "He causes nothing but trouble."

"He cares." Rick bit back, "He is a good man."

"He's a pollution." Shane snarled, "An infestation."

"Ya'll aren't talkin' bad 'bout me, are ya?" Daryl didn't make a grand entrance. He had slipped through the crowds and weaved past bickering children and crushed beer cans littering the ground to the backyard without causing a commotion or alerting anybody who knew him to his presence.

He was shadowing behind Shane and appeared so suddenly that Shane jumped and whirled around guiltily. Caught in the act.

Rick couldn't contain his excitement and he jumped to his feet and barely refrained from tackling the smaller man to the ground. He held out his hand instead and waited for Daryl to shake it quickly. His hands were warm compared to Rick, who had been holding iced beer most of the night.

In Daryl's other hand was a small box wrapped in Christmas wrapping paper. He held it slightly behind him as if he were shy or worried that anybody would notice it.

"I'm glad you made it." Rick smiled, trying to ignore Daryl's opening question like a plague. Because they _were _talking about Daryl and all of them knew it.

"Glad A' could make it." Daryl didn't sound too honest. Rick couldn't blame him.

"Morgan, this is Daryl." Rick motioned to Morgan as the man got up to his feet and held out a hand in greeting.

"So, you are the superhero I've heard so much about."

Daryl flinched a little. He wasn't expecting an introduction like that. "I guess." He murmured.

Daryl looked good. He had cleaned himself up enough to look like a regular suburban man, but he had enough 'Daryl' still in him to make him look like he didn't belong. He had changed his loose, well worn clothes up for a clean pair of jeans and a crisp, white button up dress shirt. His hair was very clean, but it was dry. His facial hair was trimmed down to a manageable level and his beauty mark right above his left upper lip was much more visible.

"Carl and little Sophia just came over and told me the story of your heroic adventures." Morgan smiled, "I'm impressed. It's not everyday you get to meet an everyday hero."

"I'm no hero." Daryl held up a hand slightly like he was try to push something off his chest. "Trust me."

Morgan laughed, "A humble man. What a breath of fresh air."

Daryl tried to come off as less awkward than he really was, but it didn't exactly work. Rick thought the attempt was gallant, though.

"So, I'm curious." Morgan motioned toward Shane who in turn, moved closer to the circle to be a part of the conversation, "What's your beef with Shane?"

"I ain't got not beef with Shane." Daryl answered at once in his slick Southern accent, "He's tha one tha's gotta beef with me, 'cause I didn't do nothin' and he still hates ma guts."

"Didn't do 'nothin' my ass." Shane mocked, "I'll tell you what your hick ass did."

"Simmer down, Shane." Rick warned. He didn't really want to stop a fight between the two men again. Especially not at his son's birthday party. He knew that the next time the two men snapped at each other it would get bloody and violent. It wasn't the time or place.

Daryl and Shane mollified for the moment and the subject was dropped.

Shane was still outraged on the inside, though. In his mind, he was day dreaming about throwing Daryl under a bus and holding his head under the pool water. He was wondering why his best friend kept picking his brand new toy over him and he was breaking apart because that's all Daryl was. A toy. Rick had to get bored of him eventually.

Daryl didn't know what else to do with the silence so he lifted up his hand and droped his present into Rick's hands. "Here." was all he said.

Rick gave Daryl a grand grin, "Carl will love it, I'm sure."

"Ya don' even know what it is."

"It's from you, and I think that's all that really matters."

Daryl scuffled his feet together dubiously. "I didn't have any other wrapping paper. Sorry."

Morgan took the box from Rick's hands before Rick could say anything on the matter, "I'm heading in to check on Jenny, so I'll drop this off with the others. You want anything?"

"Anything alcoholic." Daryl answered when he realized Morgan was talking to him.

"There's beer in the cooler there." Morgan pointed out as he ambled inside.

"Thanks." Daryl murmured even though Morgan was already gone. He sauntered over to the ice chest and opened it. He pushed around the contents with a wet slushing sound until he found his top choice and pulled it out. He brushed off some of the water and it splashed silently to the ground in a few heavy drips. Rick handed him the bottle opener and Daryl clicked the cap off.

Rick watched Daryl gulp down half of his bottle greedily. He was probably trying to hide the stress he was under from being around such a large crowd. Rick had only known him for a while, but he could already tell Daryl wasn't a people person. A drip of Daryl's booze slid from his lip and down his chin. Rick felt sudden urges and he quickly looked away until Daryl had pulled his drink away and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

Despite dressing classier, Daryl was the same old Daryl. Rick was forever thankful.

"Daryl!" Carl's shrill scream caused everyone in the backyard to pause and everything went silent while the trio, Carl, Sophia and even Duane ran to the new arrival's side promptly.

Carl and Sophia were the only ones brave enough to hug him. They wrapped their tiny, soaked arms around Daryl's waist and held him dreadfully tight. Their heads barely reached half way up his waist.

Daryl looked awfully uncomfortable, but Rick was too amused to put a stop to it. Everyone else had returned to their conversations.

When Carl and Sophia pulled away they left child shaped wet spots on his shirt. Daryl didn't seem to notice, or perhaps he just didn't care. Seeing as how Daryl had a knack for noticing everything, the latter was more likely.

"Carl." Daryl greeted, "Sophia. And," he paused when his eyes land on Duane. An unfamiliar face.

Duane was too busy thinking of ways to impress this new heroic figure to answer, so Carl does it for him.

"This is Duane. I think Dad introduced him to his father. Morgan."

Daryl hummed as he nodded, "Yeah, I 'member him."

Carl hugged him again and pulled away before Sophia could join in. "Thank you so much for coming!"

"Yeah, kid." Daryl nodded, "Happy birthday."

"Burgers are ready." Shane nearly growled from the Bar-B-Q. Carl turned and cupped his hands around his mouth and repeated the news loud enough for everyone, inside and out, to hear.

Groups of people, young and old, flocked over to the grill and a line was made.

Rick and Daryl flew off to the side and wait quietly until everyone else had a plate of food and Shane took over dishing out the cooked meat. Lori, Jenny, Carol and Morgan made their way out eventually and the girls went back in while Morgan ventured to linger with Rick, Shane and Daryl.

After Rick and Daryl got their burgers they sat back around the coolers and ate.

Daryl eyed to fire pit through most of his meal and listened to Shane and Morgan babble about sports cars until he couldn't take being surrounded anymore and spoke up. "You guys wanna start a fire over in tha' pit over there?"

Rick and the other two boys glanced over to it and saw how uncrowded it was.

"We were thinking about doing just that earlier." Morgan collected his belongings, "We must have forgotten."

Daryl stood up when he noticed the others getting out of their seats and followed them around the pool. Daryl took to his element instantly. He found a pile of chopped wood and stacked a few in the pit with kindling and Rick, Morgan and even Shane were impressed by how prefect it looked.

"Damn, if I didn't know better I would have thought you went to boy scouts or something." Morgan huffed with laughter, "Where did you learn to build fires like that?"

Daryl pulled a matchbook out of his pocket and snapped a match off and across the rough pad quickly. He set the burning tip against a few small twigs and they lit easily. The fire took strongly in a matter of seconds.

"Learned from trial and error." Daryl told them, "Ya learn really quick when yer life depends on it." Daryl fell back and sat in the last free seat. He watched the flames lick about like a lover.

Rick watched Daryl watch the fire. The glint of sparking yellows, oranges and reds reflected in his deep blue irises.

"Well, I am thoroughly impressed." Morgan laughed. He didn't bring up anything about Daryl's other comment because he figured it was none of business. He could already tell Daryl wasn't going to say more on the matter.

The men ate in comfortable silence for awhile, hunger denying anything else as it needily clawed at their bellies. Shane, though, kept glaring around at everyone as if all of the misfortunes in his life were caused by one of them.

Eventually, most of them set down their plates and kicked up conversations about whatever.

"What do you think is the greatest sport in the world?" Morgan asked.

Shane let his rage simmer down enough to look at Morgan and laugh, "What?"

"I think it's got to be football." Morgan told them, "It's very masculine. Not like golf. You can actually get hurt in football. Some people break their backs and get permanent damage. It really is a game that speaks for America."

"I'm with you on this one." Rick agreed as he finished off the last of his burger and dropped his paper plate in the fire.

"I don't know." Shane smirked, "I think boxers are the greatest athletes for the simple fact that they never cry. That is mind-blowing. Have you ever been punched in the nose?" Shane reached up and touched the bridge of his nose. It had been broken so many times over years of fist fights and accidents. "My God, it hurts so bad. And then, they have to go back to a corner where some little man yells at them. I'd yell at them. Tell 'um, 'Shut up, I just got punched in the face!'. If I was a boxer, do you know who I would hire as my corner man? My mom."

Rick and Morgan snorted with laughter and even Daryl let a little smile flutter on his lips. Rick recognized the joke from some comedian he and Shane had seen on television a while back but it was still funny. Especially in a real life conversation.

"What about you, Daryl?" Morgan smirked when his laughter died down enough to actually talk. "What do you think is the best sport?"

"Hurling." Daryl answer without missing a beat. He delved deeper into his answer when the other three shot him curious looks. "It's like lacrosse, but it's tha Scottish version. Tha goal of tha game is tha same, but yer supposed ta beat tha shit out of tha other players with yer stick. No pads, no guards, no rules, really. Just beat tha shit out of each other and score. A lot a tha players are missing teeth."

Shane grimaced, "Sweet."

"Aha!" Morgan laughed, "Sounds like a hell of a time."

Rick smirked, "Have you ever played, Daryl?"

"Once or twice when ma cousin's family visited." Daryl nodded and stepped up, out of his seat. "I'm gonna get another beer and take a piss. Ya guys wan' anythin'?"

Morgan, Shane and Rick showed him their empty bottles and Daryl rolled his eyes.

"On it." Daryl disappeared and for awhile it was peaceful.

"I can see why the kids think he's so cool now." Morgan smiled, "He's interesting."

Rick nodded, "Yeah. He's nice, too, underneath all of those prickly cactus thorns.

Morgan grunted, "He can make a mean fire, too. I bet he has all sorts of weird hidden talents."

Rick chuckled at the thought, "Yeah. He's good at talking to kids, which is a 'weird hidden talent' in my book."

"Agreed." Morgan snorted.

Daryl came back a few short minutes later with four beers and a large handful of candy. He passed out the bottles and dropped into his seat gracefully. He maneuvered the end of his shirt into a little bowl in his lap and used it to hold his mini Reese's Cups.

Shane coughed and laughed terribly at Daryl, but Daryl didn't seem to mind him. He peeled back the golden wrapper and plopped the chocolate on his tongue. "Chocolate and beer don't go together." Shane told him directly.

"Chocolate now. Beer later." Daryl informed him as he licked the pads of his thumb and index finger.

Rick watched his lips without really wanting to. He couldn't help it, really.

Daryl kept eating his candy slowly, as if he knew Rick was watching him. Excruciatingly slow.

Shane and Morgan didn't seem to mind and Rick just couldn't figure out why. It was driving him up the wall.

XxxX

**A/N-** So yeah, this chapter ended up being over 13K, so I chopped it in half!

I finished Forbidden Fruit a few days ago! It was only a two-shot, but I think of it as an accomplishment, so there. The second, and final, chapter ended up being over 10K. I didn't want to chop it, though, so *shrug*

Now, would you read a Shane/Daryl if I wrote it? Don't answer that until you've read Forbidden Fruit or Ghost Town, cause there are different ways that I can write Shane.

On a completely other note, I've decided what story I'm going to start after I finish Dollface. (I've decided I'm going to only focus on two big projects at a time, i. e. Ghost Town/Dollface) It's going to be a love triangle slash story! Rick and Shane are both in love with Daryl and they all work at the same place. A fire house. Yep. A firefighter AU. Get excited.  
But, they pretty much have to figure out how to keep personal and work stuff seperate in the middle of a blazing fire while also keeping their friendship alive. Hmmm...

The joke that Shane told was something I remembered from a Daniel Tosh stand up special. It reminded me of Shane... So... *shrug*

Did you guys see the Walking Dead season 3 trailer? AH MA GAWD! I'm so happy... Now, if only I could keep Daryl from proving that he's straight. GO FOR RICK, DARYL! OR AT LEAST GLENN!

Review, tell me what you think, scold me for not having part two of this up yet and making you lovely people wait, get me pumped, tell me how excited you are for season 3 now, how much you hate Daryl/Carol (Cause, I really do), question me on Shane's new motives, provide motive for me to update earlier then I'm thinking, oh my gawd the new Batman movie is coming out on Friday and Tom Hardy's really cool so it should be epic, ya know, Bane has always been my favorite Batman villian, and tell me what you think of my new plot idea(s)!

See ya soon with part 2!


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N-** I was thinking about waiting until Friday to put this up, but you guys are too kind to me.

Did you know that there is a phobia for people who are scared of opinions? Can you imagine how that conversation would go?  
Person 1- "I have Allodoxaphobia."  
Person 2- "What's that?"  
Person 1- "It's fear of opinions."  
Person 2- "Well, I think-"  
Person 1- "DO. NOT. WANT!"

(I kid. I respect everyone and that these diseases and fears are real.)

**KagXmi** (Oh ma gawd, I laughed so hard I cried :D), **Riku-Aura777**, **crazyjayjay**, **Justme**, **Silver Mirror**, **MinuteCloser2Failing**, **TheColdFlame**, **TasteOfVanilla**, **simplegay me**, **writerchick0214**, **Guest**, **Guest, Guest, Guest **and **DeDe324** this chapter's for you guys! I give it to you early cause your support just warms me to the core! Thank you so so much!

**Justme**, I can't tell you over PM because you're anon, but let me explain. I don't see Rick as someone who would 'put someone in their place'. Maybe later on in the later episodes of the series, but not before that.. To me, pre-apocolytic Rick seems like the kind of man who wants to see the best in people. Even after they betrayed him. He seems like the kind of person who would forgive and forget for the sake of friendship and for the sake of his child and for the sake of love (for Shane and for Lori) that has lasted worse. Before the walkers and the death of his bestfriend 'tainted' him, he came off (to me) like that. Later in this chapter you'll notice some of the effect it really had on Rick and certainly later on when Rick is worn down by the tension, but for now, he deals with everything subtly...  
Ahahah! And Hell yeah, Shane would totally top *Smirk and epic nod*

XxxX

"I have forced myself to controdict myself in order to avoid conforming to my own taste."  
_Marcel Duchamp_

XxxX

**Dollface-**

The fire crackled occasionally. That, the childish squeals in the background and Shane and Morgan's conversation were the only things making noise, but it all seemed to die down when faced with the fact the Daryl was licking his fingers teasingly and making Rick batty without trying.

Daryl was on his last chocolate when the girls joined them. Jenny had no problem sitting on her husband's lap and Morgan seemed to enjoy it far too much. Lori stood off to the side, between Rick and Shane, a glass of apple juice in one hand while the other was laid on her protruding tummy. Carol didn't fully approach the fire until Daryl glanced back over his chair and saw her. He stood up and motioned her into his seat. The frightened woman looked more shocked than startled though and she allowed for Daryl to reach out and lead her into the chair.

"I'll grab ya a chair." He grumbled softly to Lori as he headed back over to the porch.

Lori stumbled over her surprised appreciation and watched as the redneck stalked over to the out door table and wrestled a couple of chairs out of the chaos.

Daryl was half way back when the kids chorused pleads for him to join them in the pool. Carl was leading the charge.

"No." Daryl barked over the cooing, and that had been enough of an answer for them. For the moment.

Daryl propped Lori's chair over where she was standing and she thanked him kindly. He headed back to a spot between Carol and Morgan, right across from Rick, and set up his own chair there. Carol shot him a shy, thankful smile.

"So," Jenny smiled as she balanced her wine glass on her leg, "Carl's officially a teenager! And you two have another one on the way! What's that like?"

"Absolutely chaotic." Lori sighed and rubbed her belly absentmindedly, "Carl's going to be all grown up soon. And this new baby is only going to be five when he's eighteen and moving out."

Jenny laughed, "Sophia will be about eighteen, too, won't she?" She turned to Carol.

"Uh," Carol blinked as all of the attention turned to her, "almost. She'll be a few months away from eighteen."

"Well, that's certainly around the same age." Jenny told her, "And I can see a love sprouting between Carl and Sophia. Without a doubt."

"They would be such a cute couple." Lori agreed thoughtfully.

Carol blushed.

Daryl huffed silently and sunk lowly in his chair to get a better view of the fire spitting away. It was far more interesting than girl talk.

"Hey, Daryl," Rick could tell Daryl was drifting out of the conversation already. "You said you liked camping, right?"

Daryl perked up his head a little and nodded, "Sure." He didn't notice that everyone around the table was looking at him until he answered. Then he understood the sheepish woman's embarrassment. "Whenever I can make tha time."

"When was the last time you went?" Morgan asked.

"'Bout six months ago." Daryl shrugged, "I don' get off work often enough ta go more than tha'."

"You love the forest don't you." Jenny smiled at him, "I can tell."

"Yes, ma'am." Daryl shifted in his plastic chair, "Much more than tha city."

Jenny giggled and turned to whisper to her husband, loud enough for everyone to hear, "He called me ma'am. How cute!"

Morgan chuckled a bit, too. Mostly because he saw Daryl duck his head and avoid any eye contact.

"It would be fun to go camping as a big group." Lori added, "We'd need someone like Daryl, who knows what they were doing, though. I'd hate to be lost in the middle of nowhere or killed by wild animals because of you two and your stupid pride." She smacked Shane and Rick's legs fondly.

"We could fend off any wild animal, now couldn't we, Rick!" Shane defended himself wryly.

Rick laughed, "You could scare _anything _away with a face like that." He teased.

Almost everyone laughed at the two men's bickering. Anyone who didn't know better would have thought them brothers.

"What kind of predators would we find in the woods nearby?" Shane asked Daryl.

"Coupla bears, some mountain lions, cougars." Daryl shrugged, "Chupacabra."

Shane burst out in a fit of drunken giggles, "Did you say Chupacabra?"

Daryl wrinkled his nose, furrowed his brows and shrugged.

"What, are you high!"

"I saw one once." Daryl told him, "Out in tha woods, while I was huntin'."

"And, how come it didn't suck out all of your blood and eat your heart."

"I dunno, lucky I guess." Daryl rolled his eyes, "Most wild animals are more afraid of you than ya are of them."

Shane coughed and choked and laughed until Daryl blushed beat red.

"I believe you." Carol placed a soft, warm hand on his and Daryl glanced over at her. The look on her face was good natured and pleasant and Daryl allowed himself to relax. He was glad someone didn't think him a fool.

Rick smiled at him over the fire. Not the kind of smile Shane would have shot him if he wasn't snorting and coughing like a drugged loon, but an affectionate smile that spread goose bumps over Daryl's skin. Daryl retracted into himself a little, pulling his hands onto his lap. He didn't know what to do with the feelings dancing around inside him, so he shut them all down.

Heavy footsteps crunched in the gravel behind him and everyone quieted and watched the new comer. Daryl turned to watch Ed approach, and he immediately disliked the man. Just by taking in the man's overbearing, cocksure attitude, Daryl could tell this man was disgusting through and through.

He motioned to Carol and the woman was up on her feet in the blink of an eye. She shuffled around to the other side of the chair and let Ed take a seat with a dirty grunt.

The mood by the fire peaked with anger, but no one said a word on the matter.

Daryl hadn't gotten any memos on leaving this man to do whatever he pleased, so Daryl didn't do exactly what he wanted to do, but he did the closest thing he could without causing a scene.

He sent his most violent, vile glare at Ed until Ed noticed and flinched like he could feel his intense stare boring holes in him. After awhile, Ed looked like he almost regretted it.

Daryl pushed up off of his seat and offered it to Carol again. Carol smiled as best she could and shook her head. Daryl would have none of that. He held out a hand until she took it. He felt bad. Like he shouldn't have let Carol's angelic fingers brush against his filthy, tainted ones. He pulled away once he got Carol to take a seat.

"I'ma grab a chair." he grumble to no one, really. Daryl headed back towards the empty tables on the porch. Carl and Sophia called out to him from the closest corner of the pool.

"Daryl!" Sophia called, "Come swimming with us!"

"Nope."

"Please!" Carl called and Daryl turned to watch the kid try to woo him. "It's my birthday!"

"Tha' aint gonna work on me." Daryl turned a bit. "It could be tha last day of yer lil' life and I still wouldn't come swimmin'."

Carl pushed out his bottom lip, not enough to be a pout, but enough to make a funny face.

"Tha's... Tha's special." Daryl sniffed and Sophia's obnoxious cackling at his comment could be heard around the neighborhood.

"Special in a really awkward, 'I-wish-I-could-unsee-that-face sorta way." She ducked under the water to dodge a splash Carl aimed at her.

Daryl shook his head and turned back to his original little job. He slid a light, plastic chair out of the mess of a table and platters and held it over his shoulder with a couple of fingers.

As he was heading back to the fire, the kids called him over again. Out of some misplaced guilt, he set the chair to the side he walked over. Only Carl and Duane were waiting for him in the pool.

"Where'd tha other lil one go?" He asked casually, "Didn't drown 'er, did ya? I don' think her mother would be too happy 'bout tha'."

"She went to get something to drink." Carl told him. Daryl immediately knew something was up, because evil little twitches were pulling at Carl's lips and the other kid, Duane, looked awfully guilty.

Rick watched Daryl talk to Carl and Duane. The sight was rather adorable. Big, bad, evil Daryl hunched over and listening to a couple of kids talk to him in a code of giggles and unrecognizable words. Daryl looked uneasy and at the same time, self-assured.

"He's good with kids, isn't he." Jenny commented and she hugged an arm around Morgan and leaned into his warmth.

Lori shrugged, and Shane cracked his neck a little. Carol set her head thoughtfully in her hand and smiled, "I agree. He's almost a kid himself, with a personality like that."

Rick had to strain himself a bit to hear Carol's tiny voice but huffed when he did. The thought was amusing. "A fully grown child?"

Carol shot him a smile and nodded, "Like he didn't quite grow up."

Jenny snickered gingerly and ran a finger over her chin advisedly, "He really is in over his head, isn't he."

She seemed to have spotted Sophia before anyone else, before Daryl. The little girl was winding her way around crowds and, like a little ninja, she got behind Daryl's back without alerting anybody.

Everyone who was watching the scene from the fire pit knew where it was going.

Daryl felt the little hands on the small of his back and instantly knew what was up. The kids had tricked him. And he had let them. He felt stupid for falling for something as simple as this plan.

Daryl felt his body teeter over and it took everything in him to maneuver mid air so he wouldn't land on the kids.

Rick sprang up when he saw Daryl actually hit the water. He was already on his feet when the small redneck breached again, gasping and choking on water.

Daryl hadn't bother swimming over to the stairs or wading around a little bit. Like a drenched cat, he scrambled for the nearest purchase and heaved himself up and out of the water. He collapsed on the ground and shot a forcible glare at the cackling kids. He lay in his puddle for a while and then pulled himself up to sit on his legs.

Lori, Jenny, Shane and the others laughed hard and heavy. Except for Carol, who was shooting off disappointed eyes to her daughter and a sympathetic look to Daryl, and Rick who was already kneeling at Daryl's side.

"That wasn't nice, Carl." Rick scolded. He instinctively let his hands roam over Daryl for injuries.

Daryl peered at him from under his soaked mop of hair.

"You okay?" Rick asked stupidly. He carded his fingers through Daryl's hair, pushing loose strands out of his eyes and his hand came back wet with water.

"Fine." Daryl croaked. He took a moment and a deep breath and looked back up into Rick's eyes. "Jus' a lil' water, is all."

"Carl shouldn't have done something like that. He knows better." Rick narrowed his eyes at his son who went on the defensive.

"It was Sophia's idea!"

"Na-ah!"

"Ya-ha!"

"No, it wasn't!"

"Yeah, it was!"

Daryl reached into the pool and fished for one of the nearby pool noodles. He pulled it out of the water and smacked the kids about. Carl and Sophia dropped their argument and laughed, hard.

"Shut up." Daryl rolled his eyes and after a while just chucked the toy at them and dragged himself up. Carl, Sophia and Duane looked up at him hopefully and he just rolled his eyes and went back for his chair.

Rick followed him over and back to the fire pit, Daryl trumped over and plopped his seat down in the gravel. He ignored everyone's sympathetic or amused smiles.

Rick caught Daryl by the arm before he sat down, "Come inside, we'll find you something dry."

"I'll dry jus' fine ba' tha fire here." Daryl told him, "I'll be fine."

"I don't want you catching a cold." Rick reprimanded, pulling Daryl towards the house, "C'mon."

Daryl didn't look willing, but he let Rick lead him away all the same. He shot one more uncertain look at the fire and he saw Jenny and Morgan and Carol and everyone, but Shane, smiling at him kindly. Shane had a dangerous look on his face. A warning look.

Before they entered the house, Rick pulled one of the clean, folded pool towels off of the porch table and wrapped it around Daryl's slightly shivering form. He pulled it tight and let Daryl grip the ends before he let go.

When Daryl noticed the Batman design, he pulled a face and Rick laughed.

"I'll have a change of clothes for you." Rick informed him as he pulled Daryl past the already open screen door and over a trail of puddles left by eager kids. They left the mess behind when they padded down the hallway together. None of their guests had headed down here unless they were looking for the bathroom. Only a closet and the master bedroom were down this hall, and both of the doors were closed.

Daryl stopped half way to the door and looked up at one of the picture frames hanging on the wall.

It was Lori and Rick's wedding photo.

The two were smiling at each other, happiness that promised forever glinted on their bright, beautiful faces. The background was a couple of trees. Lori's dress was perfect, pearl white, Rick's tuxedo was pressed clean. Even the grass and the nature around them expressed purity.

Daryl shot Rick a troubled look, "I didn't," he swallowed, "ruin yer marriage, did I?"

Rick inhaled and shifted. He moved closer to Daryl and Daryl shrunk away a little bit. Rick felt so guilty and so at fault for the fear and unease that Daryl was trying so hard to hide.

"Of course not." Rick reassured. He was tempted to pull poor Daryl into him and embrace him tightly. He figured Daryl was already on edge, though. "You have done absolutely nothing to make you think that way."

"You look so happy." Daryl whispered. He motioned to the picture as if it had the honest answer for him.

"A long time ago, I was happy with her." Rick reached out and laid the side of his hand on Daryl's shoulder. He let his fingers loosely cup around his neck.

This time Daryl leaned into the touch, like a puppy getting its first scratch behind the ear. Rick smiled. He liked the feeling of skin on skin contact with Daryl no matter what the situation. Sensual or casual.

"How about we get you in something dry?" Rick asked as he pulled Daryl into his room and closed the door behind him.

Daryl glanced around the room. The bed was made, the floors were clean, any clutter was none existent. It all looked almost unused.

"Do ya even sleep in here?" Daryl coughed and shot Rick a curious look.

"Sometimes." Rick admitted and Daryl's face dropped, "When Lori and I aren't fighting."

"Tha' happen often?"

"More than you know."

Daryl ran a hand over the down feather covers, careful not to drip any water on it. "Where do ya sleep?"

Rick turned to dig in the closet and he shrugged, "The couch, mostly."

"Doesn't sound comfortable."

"It's not." Rick handed over a pair of loose, black sweats without looking up and continued analyzing the shirts on the hangers without a pause.

Daryl took the sweats and unfolded them. Balancing the towel on his shoulders, he was able to hold the pants up to his frame. They looked about the right size. "Do ya think it will ever go back to tha way it was?"

He wasn't sure why he asked it. He was not sure why he asked, but he wanted to know the answer. No matter how miserable it made him and any third party involved.

It was then he realized he should sort of be thankful to Shane and Lori, no matter how much they hurt Rick. If they hadn't betrayed Rick, Daryl never would have had a shot at... whatever he felt. He knew that was selfish so he never spoke the words aloud.

"I really hope not." Rick answered truthfully. "I don't want to go back and be with Lori that way again. I loved her and she betrayed me. I don't think I could ever drop my guard around her, for her, again."

"I understand." Daryl murmured.

Rick pulled a plain T shirt off of a hanger and rubbed his thumb over the soft material. "Do you think that makes me damaged goods?"

Daryl almost laughed, "If yer damaged than I'm broken."

"You're not broken." Rick moved forward and pressed the shirt into Daryl's hands.

"Yer not damaged." Daryl told him. He let Rick get closer and closer until nothing but the clothes in Daryl's hands were separating their bodies.

"Thank you for coming, Daryl." Rick liked the way Daryl's name tasted on his tongue and he loved the way his own name sounded on Daryl's lips.

"Yer welcome." the shorter man said, his eyes flittering down to Rick's lips. "Rick."

Daryl pulled away and tossed his Batman towel onto the big bed along with his new change of clothes. Rick heard him rustling around with the buttons on his shirt.

The collar of Daryl's shirt loosened as he undid the last of the buttons and it drooped lifelessly from around his shoulders. Rick gasped.

Burns and scars and scabs and bruises and brands littered over Daryl's back. Decorations in the form of year old wounds were carved over his spine, his ribs, his shoulder blades, his lower neck. From just past his collar line and disappearing underneath the waist of his low hanging jeans, ancient injuries permanently marred Daryl's skin.

Daryl turned and looked at Rick when he heard his reaction and his eyes shot to a narrowed, tensed position. His lips kicked up in a snarl.

Rick was dumbfounded. He had absolutely no idea how to react.

Daryl turned around completely and eyed Rick precariously. His shirt dropped gently to the carpet.

The frontal view wasn't much better. Cigarette burns and silver lines of upturned skin bumped up and down his chest. Some of them didn't look more than a month or two old.

Worst of all, Rick could follow some of the scars into formed words across Daryl's chest. 'Freak', 'slut' and 'useless' were etched into him like some sick crossword puzzle. They were subtle. If Rick had been standing ten feet off he wouldn't have noticed them. Maybe only the worst of the scars, but not the words. But, he had been close. He had seen them and there was no unseeing them.

Most of the scars weren't crowded together. Patches of soft, perfect skin could be seen in between burns and terrible, meaningless words. It proved that if Daryl had not been maimed so terribly he would easily have been described as perfect.

Rick realized he never would be able to describe Daryl as flawless.

Each one of his scars represented baggage. And Daryl had a lot of it.

"I thought ya had seen them before." Daryl told him. He was still tense and on the defensive, but he looked more defeated than anything.

Rick gaped a little. It took a moment to grasp for the words he needed. "I didn't notice them the first time. I was drunk and it was dim in that hotel room."

Daryl stepped away as if he was being shunned, "Yeah, maybe it's best I go." He ducked down to grab his shirt off the ground and Rick reached out and grabbed him up with a hand on each of his shoulders and yanked him close.

Daryl flinched at the contact as if he were being punished. It took almost a whole minute, but then Daryl melted into the hug like it had been his first. He laid his head down in the crook of Rick's neck and breathed deep and long. His arms went limp and he only used his legs to support his weight.

"You're beautiful, Daryl." Rick breathed into the smaller man's hair.

"I ain't."

"You are." Rick reassured. He tightened his grip on Daryl's body and held him as close as he could without hurting the man or cutting of his circulation. "Who did this to you?"

Rick heard Daryl clamp his mouth shut quickly. As if had been taught not to tell.

Rick didn't push him on the subject. He pulled an almost reluctant Daryl off of his chest so he could look him in the eye. "I don't think I've ever seen someone as stunning as you."

"These scars-"

"Are a part of you." Rick smiled, "And just like you, there is absolutely nothing wrong with them. They're beautiful."

Daryl shot him a disbelieving stare. Underneath it, Rick could see the hope.

"That's not to say that the person who did this to you was right." Rick added with a hiss. "If I ever find them I will see to it that they spend the rest of their life behind bars, being prison raped. And, if the case is thrown out because my arrest was too violent, I will personally hire men to prison rape them for the rest of their life."

Daryl raised a brow at the thought as if it were amusing.

"I'll leave you to get changed." Rick pulled Daryl in for one more tight squeeze and then let him go. Daryl looked at him with surprised, wide eyes, but he didn't contradict him. "I'm going to go get the cake ready."

Daryl nodded and watched Rick leave.

When Daryl came out again he found Rick against the counter lighting two number shaped candles. The one was already lit, but the three was giving him trouble. Daryl stepped in and took the matchbox from him. He lit it easily.

"You're good with fire." Rick commented and Daryl shrugged.

"I've lived around it most of my life." Daryl felt much better in a fresh change of clothes. The only thing still wet was his hair. The Batman towel was hung around his neck and he reached up to scrub his hair occasionally.

"Explains why you're so smokin'." Rick said with a coy smirk.

Daryl shot him a look. "You've got to be jokin'. Are you flirtin' with me, Rick Grimes?"

"And what if I was?"

"Then I would start by tellin' you ta stop bein' so damn cheesy." Daryl huffed and turned his back to hide a small smile.

They were lucky they were alone in the kitchen.

With the candles lit, Rick scooped up the cake by the bottom tin and paraded himself over to the dining room table. He set the dessert in the middle and piled a couple of the near empty bowls ontop of each other and set them over on the kitchen counters.

A couple of the adults mingling in the living room noticed Rick and his commotion and moved outside to herd the kids and the parents into the house for dessert and presents.

Daryl ghosted to the edge of the room and hung around the back of the quickly expanding crowd. He tried not to get lodged in between people and accomplished his goal by just staying the hell away from everybody.

There were over four dozen people crammed in the room. Carl was the center of attention and he was basking and glowing with joy. The kid had the nerve to send Daryl an innocent, toothy smile.

Lori had her camera out and she was ordering Carl and his friends to pose. Daryl tried not to comment on how everyone looked ridiculous. Party hats, sugar high children and almost drunk, exhausted parents were filed together and were watching and screaming and rolling their eyes as Carl took an extra minute to think of a wish and then finally blow out the candles.

And the cake was cut and plates are handed out. A lot of parents didn't accept any, like they're watching their weight. All of the kids go at it like rabid animals.

Carl was governor for the day. He sat on his little throne and watched gleefully as Rick, Shane and Lori hand him his presents like he's a little king.

He accepted them greedily with the occasional thanks thrown hastily to the contributor and to either of his parental slaves that handed him the present.

He got a lot of good stuff, but Daryl let his eyes fog over for a while. He wasn't really paying attention. He didn't really care.

And then Shane, the bastard, handed Carl a little box wrapped in Christmas wrapping and Daryl froze. He looked around for an escape and tried to hide his embarrassment. He forgot to put a card on the top, so Carl had to ask who it was from. Daryl tried to clear his throat, but it wasn't load enough. Morgan was the one to call attention.

"It's from Daryl." Morgan told Carl and everyone looked at Daryl. Even Carl, with his big, round, excited eyes.

Daryl had sort of been hoping he wouldn't have to own up to it. He tried to look for help and he found Rick in the crowd, but Rick was only grinning at him dearly.

He heard the paper rip and tear and he shielded himself away from everyone else.

"Holy cow!" Carl cooed excitedly, "No way! A pocket knife!"

"It's a Swiss army knife." Rick corrected as he got a better look, "And a really really nice one at that. What kind is it, anyway?"

Shane leaned in, too. His eyes glinted a bit with jealousy.

"It's a, um," Daryl tried to ignore everybody and chewed on his thumbnail a little, "Victorinox Champ."

"Isn't this the newest one?"

"I dunno 'bout tha', but it's the biggest." Daryl shrugged, "It's got everythin' on it."

"Carl is way too young for something like that." Lori interrupted. "How could you even think of giving him a knife!"

Daryl's back hit softly against the wall and he used it for support. He tried to hide a bit, but Lori's evil, angry eyes followed him. Before he could find an excuse, both Rick and Carl jumped in defense.

"I'm so old enough!"

"I think he's old enough." Rick and Carl said their part together. Rick eyed Carl so he would stand down and let him take over, "I think it's about time he started learning things like how to use a knife and survive in the woods."

"I got my first pocket knife when I was eight." Shane tagged in and Lori glared at him and his betrayal. Daryl sighed with relief as soon as her piercing stare was off of him. "My pa turned to me and said, 'This knife holds the power to kill a man and to save a man. Use it wisely.' Changed my life from that moment forward."

Lori snatched the knife out of her son's hands and stashed it in her pocket, "We are not having this discussion now. We'll talk about it later."

Carl sulked and Sophia and Duane comfort him with a funny whispered joke. The trio laughed and the mood in the room picked up again.

By the end of the gift unwrapping Daryl thought Carl was spoiled rotten.

His parents bought him a bike and his Uncle Shane got him a nice remote controlled car and there is a large pile of other assorted gifts already stacked behind him like an army. The kid was grinning like a fool and when the presents ran out he was out of his chair and digging through his gifts. He pulled out his new pack of water guns and passed them out to the other kids and a war began immediately. Lori, Jenny and Carol are careful to shoo the out back first.

When everyone broke apart and went to mingle or clean or leave, Daryl and the group headed back to their spot at the fire pit.

Daryl threw another log on the fire and dropped into a seat. He was genuinely surprised when Rick took the chair beside his. Rick shot him the same smile he always had on his face when he looked at Daryl.

Lori was still glaring alternatively from Daryl to Shane and Shane reached over and quietly spoke to Lori until she handed him the Swiss army knife. He flicked it around in his hands, occasionally snapping one of the tools out of its tiny body and holding it in a threatening manor to no one in particular.

"I think Carl would do just fine with this thing." Shane announced, "It's not just a knife. It's anything you need it to be."

Rick laughed at the dreamy look in Shane's eyes and nodded, "I agree. I think Carl is mature enough to know the difference between right and wrong and as long as he can distinguish between that, he can wield a weapon."

"Kid has jus' tha same amount of ricsk of hurtin' himself with tha knife as he does hurtin' himself with tha bike." Daryl spieled. It felt good to have people back him up.

"I don't know," Jenny shrugged, "Boys can get rather rowdy." She had made herself comfortable in her husband's lap again.

Ed was snoring. He hadn't gone inside for cake or to watch the unwrapping of Carl's presents so he must have fallen asleep in between the time everyone left to celebrate and that moment. Daryl was tempted to go on a hunt for Sharpies.

Rick snorted off to his side and Daryl smirked because he somehow knew Rick was thinking the exact same thing. Daryl shot an amused look over at the other man.

"Did you ever do anything stupid with your pocket knife when you were young?" Lori asked Shane.

Shane shrugged and leaned back a bit in thought, "Well, I scared the shit out the neighbor kids that lived next door and I cut one of the pigtails off of the girl who sat in front of me in class. I don't know if you would call that stupid."

"I would call tha' bein' a fuckin' asshole." Daryl affirmed.

Rick snorted and shrugged his agreement when Shane shot him a glare.

Jenny yawned and stretched out her limbs one by one. She rubbed her eyes sleepily and stared up and the darkened sky, "I'm getting sleepy. Maybe it's time to head home."

Morgan kissed her lightly on the cheek and hummed, "If you're ready."

"Mm," Jenny smiled into her husband's butterfly kisses, "Yeah, I'm ready."

Morgan and his wife got to their feet slowly, thanking Lori and Rick and shaking hands and hugging good byes around the fire pit. Duane noticed when his parents started gathering their things before they had to say anything to him. He padded over in a towel he had brought from home a grinned cutely at Lori and Rick.

"Thank you so much for having us over." Duane said and he reached out and shook Rick's hand firmly. As he turned to leave his eyes landed on Daryl and he stopped for a second. "It was a pleasure to meet you, Mister Dixon."

Daryl seemed taken aback, but he didn't miss a beat, "Pleasure all mine, kid." Daryl shook hands with the boy and watched as he followed his family out. "Since when do kids these days have manners?" Daryl asked as he turned back to face the fire.

Rick laughed, "I don't know, but Carl could learn a thing or two."

Lori grunted as she pulled herself to her feet, "Most everyone is gone, so I'm going to get cleaning now." She leaned down as if to kiss Rick, but stopped short and the two ended up just staring at each other awkwardly. She pulled away and padded inside.

The crowd had dwindled down quite a bit since Daryl had looked up last. He was not too surprised since a lot of the noise from the pool had died down, too.

It was just Carl and Sophia and two or three worn down kids floating in the pool.

Carol got to her feet and smiled down at Daryl and then over to Rick and Shane, "I'm going to go see if Lori needs any help in the kitchen." She told them nimbly and she curled her dainty little fingers through her cute, short cut hair.

Daryl watched her go and felt a sudden urge to hold Ed's head underwater until the bubbles stopped. From what he had pieced together, the big man was her husband and didn't deserve to be. Nobody became as antsy and scared as poor Carol seemed to be unless someone like Ed came along and fastened onto the reigns of their life.

He would beat the man to a bloody pulp if he so much as instigated it.

"Daryl!" Sophia's voice called out. She didn't have to be as loud as before seeing as most of the backyard was empty and quiet now. "Come swimming! There aren't any kids in here to be scared of anymore!"

"Yeah! C'mon!" Carl cheered.

"Hell no." Daryl barked, "You suckers lost tha' privilege once ya soaked me wet with yer lil' trick. I ain't coming within ten feet of tha' death trap."

"Please!" Sophia begged and Carl joined his friend in a chant, "Please! Please! Please! Please!"

Daryl caved easy when it came to kids. He slunked to his feet and gave one simple warning to the kids, "I'll come sit on the edge, s'long as you don't get me wet."

Sophia and Carl whooped and hollered in excitement as the redneck made it over to the side of the pool, hitched up the legs of Rick's sweats, kicked off his boots and stepped into the water. He was careful to stay on the steps and not anywhere that kids could sneak around and do something silly, like push him in. Again. He sat down on the driest part of the pool deck.

The only thing that caught him off guard was that Rick joined him, sitting at his side and pressing his shoulder against his. Not enough to be noticed, but enough to act as support. Daryl, oddly enough, enjoyed the feeling.

Shane was sitting alone at the fire pit when he got the call. Technically, Ed was there, but the sleeping bear didn't exactly count.

The number was unrecognized and Shane answered it anyway. Being a cop, he had learned that some coworker used new phones or desguised numbers or the like to get ahold of someone in an emergency.

"This is Shane Walsh." He always answered it professionally when he didn't know who he was dealing with.

"Hey, Walsh, this is T-Dog." the informant's voice came out casual and calm, "I'm using a pay phone and I don't have any more change, so let's make this quick."

Shane nodded and remembered that T-Dog couldn't see him so he answered. "All right, have you got anything for me?"

"It's about the case you asked me to look into for you."

Shane perked up. "Shoot."

"I got a name." T-Dog said.

"What is it?"

"Dixon."

XxxX

Daryl was basking in Rick's presence while he could. He was getting tired and knew he would have to head home eventually. He had stopped drinking a while ago and had sobered up enough.

Rick watched Daryl yawn for the third time in under a minute and smiled at all of the comparisons of felines running through his head. "You want to spend the night?"

"I can't." Daryl murmured as his head lazily dropped onto Rick's shoulder. "I'd hate ta keep you and yer couch separated. I can tell there's somethin' between ya two. So many long nights together will do tha'."

"I could give you a ride."

"Brought ma bike." Daryl rubbed his eyes and kicked his feet a bit in the water. He listened to the quiet splashes and didn't have to look to see the ripples dancing in rings.

"We could throw it in the back of my car."

Daryl laughed tiredly, "It's not a bicycle. It's a motorcycle."

"Oh."

Sophia and Carl were bobbing around like little buoys. They had tired themselves out over the day and had terrible, matching cases sugar crashes. They were too out of it to notice that Daryl had pushed himself up to stand and slipped on his boots.

"I'll change back into ma clothes and get outa yet hair."

"Don't be ridiculous." Rick stood up as well, "I don't want you to change back. Your clothes are probably still soaked. I'll put them in a bag for you and you can take the ones you have on home."

Daryl looked down at Rick's clothes. In another situation he would have argued for the sake of his pride, but he was tired. He nodded and thanked Rick quietly.

"You're welcome." Rick smiled, "You go collect your stuff and I'll go get your clothes and we'll meet out front."

Within a few minutes they had rendezvoused at Daryl's bike and Rick couldn't help but gape again. The motorcycle was a big, beautiful beast in mint condition.

Rick whistled, "Wow, she's beautiful."

Daryl hummed his agreement and picked his helmet off of the seat. He slipped on to mount it and his baby purred to life when he started it up.

"I took you for more of a muscle bike guy, though." Rick eyed the impressive bike and handed Daryl a wet bag of his clothes. Daryl twisted around and slipped it into a bag he had on the back. "This is more of a sports bike. Do you race?"

"I used ta have a Triumph Thunderbird Storm, but ma brother stole it off me."

"Your brother is that scary guy from your apartment earlier this week, wasn't it." Rick doesn't really ask it as a question, because he knows the answer.

"I won this baby in a poker game last year." Daryl patted the body below him fondly after he had nodded, "She's not my type, but she's a beauty."

"What is she?"

"She's still a Triumph." Daryl informed him, "She's a Daytona 675." Pushing up the kick stand with the heel of his boot, Daryl turned to look at him, almost shyly. "I'll take ya fer a ride someday. If yer up fer it, that is."

"Someday," Rick smiled, "I'd like to take you up on that."

XxxX

**A/N-** I'm kinda pissed, 'cause I kept accidentily switching from past to present tense and I don't know why. It made me twitch a bit during editing.

Admit it, some of you are going to google those beautiful bikes and see what we're dealing with here!

So, my family owns three horses, which all live by my house and refuse to pay rent. Earlier this week my mom was unburrying the barn out of a bunch of vines and dead plants and very much alive plants and stuff and found a really big chicken coop... and so... apparently... we're getting chickens now.

Hey, guys, I love chatting about anything and everything! If you want to strike up conversation go right ahead! I love talking... In fact, I'm sure I can go non stop :D

I thought of another AU story I really really really want to do... I'm truly thinking about bumping my quota up to working on 4 major stories at one time (Ghost Town/Dollface/Firefighter AU/and this new one) ... but then updates would come at longer intervals and that's not fair... I'll give it some more thought...

**writerchick0214** and I are cowriting a story. Interested? It's a Rick/Daryl Au and we're posting it under a joint account with the pen name **some bears**. Check it out if you wanna!

Off to update Ghost Town!


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N-** I posted part 2 to the last chapter immediatly, like the day after the 1st, and I got fewer reviews than I'm used to, I still absolutely LOVE the support I'm getting, but I'm wondering if it's just because some of you didn't think I would post it up that soon, or if it wasn't that good... If it wasn't good, tell me, cause I can go back and look at it...

I did the math on how many chapters are left in this story! I'm going to say there are 7 left, including this one! I plotted it all out the other day... So unless a chapter is very long and I have to cut it or I'm and suddenly hit by a wave of insperation, that's it... 7 more chapters...

Special thanks goes out to **Viv**, **Justme**, **HisGodGivenSolace**, **DreamBiggerDarlingAE**, **RikuAura777**, **velvetemr73**, **TheColdFlame**, **crazyjayjay**, **kaszz-chan**, **KagXmi**, **LisaBoston**, **DeDe324**, and **Silver Mirror**! Thank you so much for your continued support! It means so much to me and it keeps me writing!

Bam! We've got ourselves a new member of the Rick/Daryl fan wagon, I hear! Hi, **Viv**! (I kinda felt like if this was a sitcom I would have had a group of people say that like you were introducing yourself at an AA meeting ;D)

XxxX

"You're born an original, don't die a copy."  
_Unknown_

XxxX

**Dollface-**

Rick watched his reflection. He watched his eyes, wide and nervous, blink closed until his eyelids blocked his view. With his sights turned off for the moment, he ran a timid hand over his shoulders and tried to release as much of the tension as he could with one fell swoop of his heavy knuckles.

The body length mirror in his closet stood proud against the wall, like a cocky criminal against the black and white lines of their mug shot. It was clean, at least when compared to the rest of the tiny four by four room.

Stacks of folded clothes edged the walls alongside hangers decorated with dress shirts. A few piles of dirty laundry lingered behind the door like a garbage heap. A few pairs of shoes, some high quality, some low costing and over used, were filed in a line against the wall. The light bulb above his head, screwed into the wall and barely covered by a loose globe, bathed his closet by its chalky, fake glow.

Rick let his eyes flutter open so he could observe himself once more. He was wearing nice clothing, a fancy button up shirt and the same pair of pants he wore to work on the day he knew his boss was coming to scrutinize how every one worked at their desks, when they weren't patrolling the city.

He decided, after a long, uncertain breath, that they weren't very fitting for his choice of venue for his date. Yes, his date. He had finally did it. He had convinced Daryl.

XxxX

Earlier, when the sun was high and everyone was in delightful spirits, Rick had, incredulously, found himself walking up those terrible, creaky steps up to Daryl's home.

There was an old woman at the top of the stairs that had spit some sort of incantation or foreign swear in his direction as he passed, but Rick paid her no mind. He did cast her a small glance, eyeing her ratty, white hair, colored as the snows in the high peaks of Russia and her eyes tinted a sickly blue haze that was so unlike Daryl's it made Rick a little homesick. She wore a pasty purple night gown that hung low at her shriveled ankles.

When Rick pressed past her she gave a wicked, toothless smile that smelled of sick, of her flashing rotted gums. Rick was thankful to get out into Daryl's hallway and away from her.

Rick stood at Daryl's door for far too long, waiting and wishing he could find the words to keep himself from looking like a fool. It had only been two days since Carl's party so Rick was rather worried Daryl would feel crowded if he showed up this early.

He had been wearing his uniform on that day. He had just gotten off work, a long antagonizing shift filled with paperwork and a gallon of coffee so he wasn't surprised that when he did actually build up the courage and answer the door, Daryl stood there half a minute later with a snarky comment.

"This isn't a kinky sex thing, is it?" His tone was unamused and tired, but his eyes glinted with humor.

Rick, on the other hand, had no idea how to respond to that, so he simply stood there, mouth hanging open and a whirlwind of images running through his head like a dirty film. Handcuffs, prison cells, licking lips, a filthy smirk.

"I didn't guess right, did I?" Daryl spoke up again when the silence stretched on, "Now, that would be awkward."

"Uh," Rick coughed, clearing his throat and booting his brain back up, "no. I, uh, came here to talk to you."

"And this isn't about kinky sex?"

"No."

"Too bad." Daryl maneuvered himself so his back was pressed up against the doorway lazily.

Rick tried not to swallow his tongue or put his foot in his mouth in the wake of Daryl's joke. "I want to, uh, ask you out on a date." The cop itched the back of his head, scratching nervously at the little hairs on his neck as he flashed Daryl two rows of his pearly whites.

"Ya look like yer asking me ta prom." Daryl murmured under his breath as if it were only a passing thought. Rick still heard it.

"Should I have brought flowers?"

"Ha!" Daryl didn't actually laugh. He just said the word 'ha' in a sarcastic huff. He was like that. "No ya should not have brought flowers."

"Good." And it was good, because Rick had forgotten. He didn't really forget, though. He had spent the entire drive running the idea in his head like it was on a treadmill.

"So, ya wanna take me on a date, do ya?" For a second, Rick was afraid Daryl was going to laugh in his face and close the door, slam it really, and leave Rick with nothing but echoes. But, he didn't. Like someone who was insecure, Daryl leaned forward than back as if he was even indecisive on where he should stand as he wet his lips and finally responded. His voice was small. "Why?"

"Because I want to." It wasn't a very good reason. Rick knew that, and he knew Daryl knew that. He didn't have a better one, though. It was his turn to sway uncomfortably. "Look, I just wanted to see you. To spend time with you. I don't really want to go home yet."

A look flashed on Daryl's face, one of contempt as he took Rick's words the wrong way. The emotion settled again as he took a breath and assessed that that wasn't what Rick meant. It took a minute, but he accepted the confession for what it was.

"I don't usually run away from my problems." Rick admitted, his throat suddenly parched.

Daryl scoffed at that, as if it were bitterly amusing, "Seems ta me tha' yer runnin' to yer problem."

"If that's true than I've never liked a problem this much before." Rick was trying to be sweet, maybe it would have been, maybe it was, but Daryl only raised a brow.

"Yer weird."

Rick took that as a complement because he was sure, judging by the way that Daryl's eyes were turned to gaze at the floor and one of his hands were twining around to rub at his neck just as Rick had done moments ago, that Daryl was only being hesitant.

The air between them was so comfortable that Rick could have snuggled into it and fallen asleep. He never would have guessed that it could feel like that to be with another person. It was like being alone, but better.

"When?" Daryl's simple question filled the air and for a second, all Rick could hear was a couple, down the hall a ways, having rough sex.

"When?" Rick inquired in return, asking for a more indepth response.

"When do ya wanna go on tha..." As if Daryl couldn't say the word, he stopped. If he was a saint, Rick would have assumed the word was a terrible, evil swear.

"On the date?" Rick finished with a smile, "How bout this Friday night?"

"Busy." Daryl told him immediately.

"Saturday?"

"I have plans."

"Sunday?"

"Not free."

"Tomorrow?" Rick asked almost desperately.

"I work late." Daryl said, lips almost twitching up at the irony.

"When are you free?"

"Ta'night." Daryl sounded so uncertain that Rick wanted to pull him into his arms again, to pull that poor, lost kitten to the side and fill its little belly with warm milk.

"Tonight works for me." Rick grinned, his eyes sparkling as Daryl actually seemed to perk up a bit. His shoulders picked up, no longer slumping and he lifted his head like a cat called for a treat.

"Ta'night, then." It was just past four in the afternoon. They could have just left then if they wanted too. Beat traffic.

Rick watched the calculations rattle themselves on Daryl's face, it was a rare moment since he hadn't the decency or the fear to hide all of his emotions. While he waited, Rick pondered why Daryl had accepted so early. Maybe he was finally warming up to the idea of Rick, but that seemed so unlikely. Maybe it was because Rick was the first person to verbally accept all of Daryl's baggage.

"Where we goin'?"

"I," well, that was a good question, "I have no idea."

Daryl could've face palmed. Rick could see it in his eyes.

"Go home Rick." Rick felt panic flood through him as if a dam had burst open. Then Daryl finished his order. "Get something more casual on and come back here with a couple of good ideas."

Rick breathed out the air he wasn't aware he was holding hostage until that moment. A smile tugged at his lips and he felt a happiness stirring deep within him like an illness.

"I'll pick you up at six."

"Pick me up whenever." And Rick just barely caught Daryl's smile as he slammed the door closed.

XxxX

Rick watched the reflection again. His choice of clothing still wasn't casual and he knew that. It frustrated him to no end.

He had spent almost half an hour in his closet, staring at his clothes, asking himself questions that neither he or the materiel of his denim jeans had answers to.

He had taken a shower so he smelled clean. His hair, cut short and non absorbing as it was, was already nearly dry. That was a strange relief.

It was ridiculous. He felt like a swooning girl. The thought made him cringe.

Rick was a clutz when he was a nervous wreck. What a surprise. He tripped over himself and planted his face into the edge of the door when he tried to slip his dress pants off in exchange for a pair of jeans that Carl had once informed made him look more 'laid back'. He picked himself up off the ground, rubbed at his new injuries and, like a good warrior, went straight back to work.

His jeans did make him look more laid back. He smiled at his reflection and faced a newer, harder question.

Shirt tucked in or not?

He struggled with the question for far too long and then finally settled on changing into a short sleeved T that didn't need to be tucked anywhere.

Shoes?

The question threw his brain into over load and he ended up just stumbling out of the closet and playing eni mini miny mo between his boots and his slippers. Which, when the slippers won, he decided was irrational and went with his boots.

Lori was in the kitchen looking as pleased as usual. Her trademark scowl was playing on her lips and her eyes were pinching at him with little slips. "Where are you going?"

"Out." Rick answered and he fished for the keys to his truck in the little, purple bowl on the table.

"Out where?"

"Just out." Rick informed her. He wasn't sure why he felt cranky towards her questions. It was probably because, since he cheated on him with his best friend, it was none of her fucking business.

"Remember the ultrasound for the baby is next Friday."

"I won't be gone next Friday." Rick said. "I'll be gone in a few minutes. For only a few hours."

Lori pulled herself up fiercely, ready to defend herself like a cobra would. "I was just reminding you." she spat from behind her pretty, red lipstick.

"I'll be back by midnight." Rick dodged the fight completely, opting to duck out of the door instead. The last thing he wanted to do was show up at Daryl's apartment fuming from a past argument.

XxxX

The thought occurred to him when he watched Daryl pull open his front door and let his eyes roam over him steadily. He wondered if the strong, secure man before him could ever be as nervous as he was.

He did'nt know how to find the answer, nor did he guess he ever would. He chose to smile instead, pull on a confident appearance and hope Daryl didn't crack through it.

"So where are we goin'?" Daryl was wearing the same outfit he had on when Rick showed up on his doorstep a few hours before. It was not strange, in fact it was rather normal, but that just meant that Daryl hadn't had some feminine panic attack about what he would wear like Rick had.

"I was thinking we could get some dinner." Rick personally liked what Daryl had on. A slim, black shirt, worn down from years of wearing and tearing, the sleeves crinkled up just above his elbows, and a pair of jeans stressed down, at parts, to its grainy strings.

Daryl slipped out of his apartment and shut the door closed behind him, taking care to lock the door and check it, wiggling the handle a few times, before turning back to Rick. The policeman felt so odd, not in a bad way, but unusual. He was so used to waiting half an hour for his date to be ready or for the clinking, tapping rhythm of high heels or the clanking of a purse but none of that assaulted him.

"Does yer wife know 'bout this?" Rick almost caught the teasing smirk that graced Daryl's lips. He could have sworn he saw it out of the corner of his eye but he couldn't be too sure, not with Daryl.

Rick stuffed his hands in his pockets as they walked down the hallway together, side by side, "Uh, no. She doesn't." It was best to just be honest. No one wanted to start a relationship with lies. Was this a relationship?

Of course it was. Rick was taking Daryl on a date. At least, it looked like the start of a relationship.

"So yer runnin' behind her back like some hormonal teenager then, ain't ya?" Daryl snorted.

Their hands, Rick's loose on and the one Daryl was singing ever so slightly with his sway, kept brushing up against each other. Rick wasn't sure why it felt so outlandish, but the subtle skin on skin contact kept jumbling up Rick's brains and he expended far too much energy trying not to think about it.

"I guess so." Rick smiled and Daryl glanced over as they turned over to enter the stairwell. "I certainly feel like a hormonal teenager."

Rick hadn't meant to say that, but hey, _awkward_. Daryl paused to stare at him a second before scoffing, or maybe he was chuckling, but either way he let it drop.

"I saw an old lady standing right here when I came up earlier." Rick remembered the woman, her wicked smile and her unintelligible rambling. "What was her problem?"

Daryl narrowed his eyes in thought for a second, then realization dawned on him and he padded down the stairs with Rick close behind, "Tha's grandma Fetcher."

"Your grandmother?"

"No," Daryl's feet touched the bottom floor before Rick's did, "she jus' likes ta be called tha'. I don' know her ba anythin' else 'cause I don' talk ta her."

"What's her problem?"

"Dunno." Daryl shot him a smirk, "I stopped tryin' ta find out after she hissed at me and threatened to shoot ma dog."

"Shoot your dog?"

"Yeah, and I don' have a dog." Rick could tell Daryl thought the whole thing was rather amusing even though he hadn't laughed.

When they got outside Rick tripped over himself when half of his mind decided he had to go straight to his place at the steering wheel and the other half of him chose to open Daryl's door for him like a proper gentleman. Daryl watched Rick's internal, and rather physical, debate with vague interest.

"We ridin' ta'gether?" Rick gave a small nod and Daryl popped open the car door with such composed apathy that Rick, who was only just picking up his pieces, was left dumbfounded. It took a minute, but he found himself sliding into the driver's seat after him eventually.

"What are you in the mood for?"

"What am I in tha mood fer?"

"Food wise."

Daryl shook his head, "Ya didn't think this out at all, did ya?"

"No I did not." Rick turned the car on and pulled it into reverse as he pulled out of parking. "Any ideas?"

"I know a place tha' sells some of tha best pizza I've had." Daryl sort of threw out there. It sounded offhanded, but it also sounded sincere.

Rick smiled, "Just show me the way." and they drove off to join the lines of busy lanes.

XxxX

It was nice out, so when the busty, little waitress asked them where they wanted to sit, they picked on the porch out back. There were about a dozen tables, with big red umbrellas that towered over them like palm trees. They chose one of the large, round discs beside the low riding fence and watched groups of pedestrians and cars go by.

There weren't a lot of people in the back, only four of the other tables were taken. Maybe it was just before the restaurant's rush hour hand't started or maybe it was just too hot for some people to be hanging around without an air conditioner, but Rick didn't think about it too hard. There really wasn't anything that could have distracted him from the fact that that was Daryl Dixon sitting in front of him.

Daryl looked up from where he was tracing the table's pattern with the tips of his fingers and watched Rick's face for a moment. "What're you so smiley 'bout?"

"Nothing." Rick grinned harder and his lips hurt a little. He didn't mind. "Do you usually make people feel this good?"

Daryl's eyes widened just a fraction of an inch and then settled again. "I don' know, I'll have ta ask around and see what other people think of ma cuddly personality."

The laugh Rick gave was rich and heavy with humor. It could have matched the royal red that tinted the sky's dimming hues. He didn't have a chance to come up with his own smart ass response because the waiter approached with a couple of menus and a smile.

"Good afternoon." the employee was an older gentleman, maybe just past Rick's age or maybe he was young and aging sourly. "I'm Jimmy, I'll be your waiter." he set down their menus, angling them in front of them with his thin, bony fingers.

Daryl watched the clumsy man with a closed off expression. Rick watched Daryl with a smile.

"Can I start you guys off with anything?"

They ordered their drinks, beers, without any problem and they took care of their food order as well, without really having to look at the menu, getting it out of the way. Jimmy scooped up the menus with a jolly smile.

"Are you Carl Grimes' father by any chance?" Jimmy grinned and when Rick looked up he took that as a yes. "I thought so. Your boy looks just like you."

Rick's brows furrowed and Jimmy moved to explain himself.

"My kids go to the same school." Jimmy smiled, "I think I've seen you at a couple of parent teachers' conferences."

"Oh." Rick reached out and shook hands with Jimmy, letting a kind smile settle on his face. "It's nice to officially meet you. Were you at the bar-b-q last weekend?"

"Oh, no." Jimmy laughed, "But I heard about it from my kids. We couldn't go. I promised my parents I'd take them to visit that weekend and they were very disappointed they couldn't be there."

Rick laughed with him and smiled, "Well, you missed out on a hell of a time."

"Too bad." Jimmy sighed happily, "My kids were especially bummed, since Carl told the whole school, apparently, that some really cool guy was going to be there."

Daryl choked a bit and hid it in a cough.

"They told me some story that had been passed around, something Carl was talking about, about some man that saved him and Sophia." Jimmy looked almost as excited about it as the kids were. "What was his name? Derrick? Jerry? Dan?"

"Daryl." Rick grinned, "Daryl Dixon."

Jimmy snapped his fingers, "That's the one! So, you've heard the stories, too!" Rick tried to hide fact that he was absolutely beaming but Jimmy could see right through him, "Don't tell me those stories are true!"

"They are," Rick chuckled, "for the most part. When you separate the exaggerations from the truth."

Jimmy settled against their table, buckling down for a long conversation. Rick knew the signs and he grew weary. "You're kidding with me, aren't you?"

"I'm not." Rick's smiles were a little tighter when he saw the forlorn look on Daryl's face, "I'll give you the whole story. Sometime."

Jimmy took that for the dismissal that it was and shot Daryl an apologetic grin, "Sorry, I should get back to work!" he bumped Rick's shoulder as he left, "It was nice talking with you!"

"You too!' Rick waved awkwardly at Jimmy's turned back as he watched him retreat back inside. He turned to watch Daryl fumbled around with the napkin holder. "Sorry about that."

Daryl lifted his eyes to look at him and shrugged, "S'all good. Yer kids been talkin' 'bout me a lot, hasn't he."

"Yeah," Rick laughed, hoping he wouldn't offend Daryl, "he likes you a lot."

"He likes what I _did_." Daryl cleared his throat and straightened his back, "Trust me, there's nothin' here ta like."

Rick wanted to brush the hair out of Daryl's eyes and kiss his forehead like someone just out of a romance flick. He knew Daryl wouldn't appreciate that too much, so he stayed put. Instead he laughed. That caught Daryl's attention. "I can't tell if you're humble or stupid."

"Well," Daryl almost spat, "tha's one way ta start a first date."

"There is so much in you that is worthy of love, Daryl." Rick smiled, "I want you to be able to see that like I see that." Daryl's eyes landed on the table and they didn't lift. Rick leaned forward, despite knowing it was a public display of affection, and wrapped his fingers around Daryl's. "I must sound like a walking cliche book to you."

Daryl licked his lips and his fingers curled into a fist below Rick's hand. "Yer weird." he repeated.

Rick gave a soft huff of laughter under his breath and breathed in deep, "And so are you." the cop smiled, "But, the good kind of weird."

Jimmy showed up with their beer after that and Rick didn't bother pulling his hand away from Daryl's. He didn't even take his eyes off of him. The waiter smiled at them, placed down their drinks and wandered off.

"Yer such a girl." Daryl sighed and reached for his beer, separating their contact. Rick tried to hide the fact that he suddenly felt naked without it.

"You think so?"

"I know so."

Rick chuckled and turned to drink out of his nearby bottle, "So tell me, why is your schedule so cluttered?"

"I work three jobs, 'member?"

"I remember." Rick nodded, "But, why do you work so much?"

"I, uh, I support ma brotha sometimes." Daryl admitted into his beer, "When he needs tha help."

"Is that where all of your paychecks are actually going?" Rick knew the answer. Scary Asshole, or so he had been dubbed, seemed like the mooching type.

"I don' think tha' none of yer business." Daryl's accent thickened again. Rick was starting to piece things together. Maybe Scary Asshole was the one that brought out the hillbilly in Rick's redneck.

Rick let his lips twitch upwards as he backed off the subject. If it was a sensitive topic, he knew he would have to approach it tentatively and with caution, another time. He saw Daryl relax.

"What do you do in your free time?" Rick asked.

"I don' have much free time." Daryl licked his lips again. "When I do get out, though I like ta get away from tha city."

"Where do you go?"

"To tha forest." he answered. Daryl wheeled his beer in his hands around still circles as he talked, "It's much quieter out there. It's calmer. In tha forest everythin' is in an order. The weak get eatin' or get strong and the powerful, they reign over. It don't matter who or what ya are in tha forest as long as you can take care of yer'self. It's different here. Here in tha city, I could be tha strongest person and it wouldn't matter. If ya got a bad background or ya look funny ya wont get anywhere here." Daryl's eyes clouded over as if he was lost in thought, as if he was having some outer body experience and had left the table to join the wildlife in the forests miles away. His gaze lifted after a second and his mouth, his loosened jaw, slammed shut behind his lips. He looked guilty and exposed. Like he had just told Rick his deepest, darkest secret.

"I understand." Rick laughed carefully, respectfully. He had no trouble keeping himself bright and happy. That seemed to be enough of a response from Rick because the look dropped off Daryl's face like he was shedding skin. He was at ease again.

"Wha' do you do in yer free time?" Daryl spoke up.

Rick gave a cheesy, smug look, "I have a kid. I don't have free time."

"Is tha' right?" Daryl propped his elbows up on the table and used his hands to casually hide the friendly leer on his lips.

Jimmy came back and interrupted them with a basket of hot wings and Rick and Daryl spent the next fifteen minutes trying to find out who could eat the most wings with out bending over for the heat and taking a drink. It ended in a tie when the pizza came out.

They stayed and talked after that until the stars were high in the sky.

XxxX

They went to the park afterwards. Rick was not sure why, he was not even sure how it was brought up or who thought of the idea first, but it was nice.

It was dark out. The moon and the streetlights were the only things really lighting up their path. They were walking on the sidewalk, bordered by hills painted with healthy, green grass and a couple of bushy trees. There was a clump of bushes off in the far reaches, right where their light was dimming off, and they looked like they were bearing fruit.

The park was completely vacant and the only noise nearby was the few cars passing from the street they left behind and the hundreds of crickets that were back performing for their choir.

"It's nice out." Rick commented as he looked up at the full moon. He wondered if the brightness and the allure of the sky had been some sort of coincidence or a gift from some higher power. He wasn't a religious person so he didn't give it more than a curious thought.

Daryl glanced at him from the corner of his eyes and then turned to walk off the past. Rick followed him loyally. The smaller man headed up towards the top of the biggest hill and dropped to the ground with a grunt. Rick joined him.

There was a lake one or two hundred paces in front of them and Rick could see the reflection of the moon in the rippling, glassy surface. It looked like a large bath made out of the universe.

He heard shuffling beside him and turned.

It all happened rather quickly, so Rick was still trying to get his bearings when he blinked and Daryl was right there, very close. This close, Rick could see how Daryl's eyes were remarkably bright and vigorous and his mouth was wide and fine. He was not at all sure what happened, it was like something just clicked into place, but the unknown, unspeakable feelings that had been bubbling to the surface for weeks formed into one very concrete, very definable want.

Maybe it was need because Rick could feel that pulling on him as he slipped forward and back at the same time. He was sure he looked very awkward and he could tell Daryl was thinking just that because he cocked his head at an angle and scrutinized him for a while.

"You make me feel like I'm going insane." Rick murmured.

Daryl blinked and almost laughed. Rick could hear it in the catch in the back of his throat. "The feelin's mutual."

XxxX

They were sitting in Rick's car outside of Daryl's apartment for awhile. They weren't sure how to correctly say good night. Daryl, surprisingly, was the one who finally initiated it.

The material of his seat squeaked when he leaned forward and Rick let his hands drop from the steering wheel and fall into his lap. Daryl's mouth stopped half a foot from his and that drove him absolutely batty.

"Thank you." Daryl whispered, as if it were some secret. Rick could almost feel the heat radiating off of him and his scent was surrounding him in some homely cocoon.

"We should do that again sometime." Rick smiled. He wanted to lean forward, close the gap between them, but he had an odd feeling that he should wait for Daryl to do it.

"How 'bout next time I take ya out on ma bike." Daryl smirked and this time he didn't hold back.

"It's a date."

"You are so corny." Daryl rolled his eyes, "Ma God." He finally pressed his lips against Rick's and pulled back before he could react properly. Daryl stuck his tongue out and wet his lips once more before slipping out of the car and shooting one more teasing look over his shoulder as he disappeared into his building.

Rick's whole body tingled and his whole head buzzed for the entire drive home.

XxxX

Daryl held his breath until he was up the stairs and in front of his door. He finally let it out as he slipped his key in the door and heard its familiar metallic click.

He felt like a fish, thrown out of the water, its natural habitat, and scaled out of its skin. His skin prickled unusually and there was a beat in his ears that oddly matched the pump of his blood through his veins. He took in several deep breaths and ran a hand through his hair as he worked at unlocking his door.

A suffocating feeling was pressing down on his chest and choking him. He wasn't sure what it was. It sort of frightened him, because he only felt it after he saw Rick.

Maybe it was an allergic reaction.

Was this really what all of those Disney characters felt when they saw their knight in shining armor or their damsel in distress? This was terrible. Abnormal. Peculiar. Unhealthy. He really couldn't get enough of it.

When Daryl finally opened the door to his apartment he found Shane there waiting for him.

XxxX

**A/N-** So, since we last talked I started and finished some stories!

I started **Burn**, the firefighter AU, which I am _very_ excited about!  
I started **High Brow**, my first attempt at a Shane/Daryl  
and I posted up a one-shot of Walking Dead and Boondock Saints for TWD kinkmeme called **Appealing to our Better Angels**, not to be confused with the AU I wanted to do called **Better Angels**... woops..  
Yeah... I've been busy ;)

Thanks to **writerchick0214** for helping me pick 'picnic'!~ Which was what really got me finally writing this chapter... and then... I kinda veered off...

Best place I have ever had pizza? New York Pizza Department. I just don't know if they have one in Georgia. I don't even know if they have any in New York, but I know they had one in AZ when I used to live there and oh ma gawd their pizza was to DIE for. Still the best I've ever had. I miss it. I'm going to go wallow in my nastalgia now... *sigh*

Review, tell me what you think and guess on what Shane is planning! There was actually someone who reviewed last chapter who was actually... pretty damn close..

See ya'll next time!


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N-** Do any of you guys like Supernatural? Or, more specifically, Destiel? I'm thinking about writing an AU or two shipping Dean and Cas, interested? Well, I did do a one shot a week back and now I'm planning a couple more. :)

Here's to you **Kayla**, **KagXmi**, **Downey**, **Ice Dragon3**, **XxXSilverShadowXxX**, **simplegay me**, **DreamBiggerDarlingAE**, **Peachy Moose** (**Viv**), **LisaBoston**, **Damion Starr**, **Drawkab**, **kaszz-chan**, **HisGodGivenSolace**, **InkyBrown**, **writerchick0214**, **Silver Mirror**, **velvetemr73**, **DeDe324**, and **TheColdFlame**! Thank you so much!

So, I recently discovered that you can listen to Pandora on the interwebs... that's been distracting.

XxxX

"The past is always waiting to entangle and deflect us."  
_Mason Cooley_

XxxX

**Dollface-**

Daryl's apartment was trashed, or at least as trashed as it could be. It wasn't exactly like there were a lot of things to throw around. Even with his place in ruins it didn't look too crowded.

The worst damage had to have been that the cushions on his couch had been chucked around the room, a few of his plates had been shattered in the kitchen and the cup that had once housed a couple of odd pens had its contents scattered and the shards of its porcelain body strewn carelessly on the hardwood floor.

The potted plant he kept on the coffee table, the only thing he had that really connected him to nature, was smashed, roots up, breathing air, against the rug at Shane's feet. That sort of pissed him off.

"Wha' tha fuck are ya doin' here!" Daryl hissed, his voice cold. He let his eyes narrow into furious slits and he let his front door swing closed behind him. Shane's face twisted into something ugly.

Shane's tongue slipped out and wet his mouth, putting on an air of dominance. He snarled, lips crinkling away to flash sparkling teeth and a sick intention. Daryl felt himself tense. The cop reached into the breast pocket of his police uniform and Daryl felt his body go numb and stiffen, ready to throw himself out of the way of a bullet or whatever the man could have had hidden on his person, but Shane only pulled out a clean, folded slip of paper. He stepped over and dropped it into Daryl's hands.

Daryl felt a little sick when he looked up and Shane was so much taller than him. Maybe half a foot, he didn't know. He let his eyes drop down again, to the paper, as he felt his hands unfold it. "A warrant! Fer what!"

Warrants weren't a foreign thing to Daryl. He had been around them many times before. He had watched this situation unfold for his parents, his brother, his cousins and uncles. It had never happened to him, though. He was always the good kid. "I haven't done nothin'!"

"Keep reading, hick." Shane finally spoke and the command and the condescension in his tone grated at Daryl like a bad itch.

Daryl withheld the urge to spit in Shane's face and let his eyes flick down to the golden paper. It was signed by some judge. Legit. "Drug possession?" He wasn't just putting his thoughts out there exasperatedly, that time it really was a question.

"I got the evidence, you fucking piece of trash." Shane swept out violently, his hand striking out and grabbing the paper in Daryl's hands. Daryl bit his inner lip and tried not to growl.

"I don't know what tha hell yer talkin' bout, fuckface." he snapped back, "I don't 'possess' no drugs."

"Don't lie to me." Shane's hands were on him, slipping Daryl completely around before he could react. Daryl immediately felt very claustrophobic, with the door, hard and smooth, up against his chest and his face, and Shane planted up against his body, his knees digging into the back of his thighs and his shoulder holding him in place as eager hands roamed through his pockets.

Daryl struggled and thrashed with colorful swears dancing under his breath. He finally filled his lungs with air, "Get tha fuck off me! What tha fuck do ya think yer doin'!" He felt Shane's grip brush over his stomach, over his ribs, down his back, searching and groping at him. He thrashed against the unwelcome touch.

Daryl's left wrist was encircled by angry fingers in a clasp that almost cut off his circulation. The handcuffs were worse, when they slapped on and tightened to pinch at his skin. His second hand was forced to follow suit, sticking him in an awkward pose, like a beached fish, as his legs were kicked apart.

Shane constrained him far too easily, his hold far from gentle. It frustrated Daryl to no end. He despised being being man handled.

He had never really been searched by a cop before, either. This was new. he had seen it happen once or twice to Merle, but he was pretty sure now wasn't the time to ring him up and ask for advice.

Daryl felt Shane lifting one of his feet and slipping off his boot, out of the corner of his eye he could see him frisk it momentarily, toss it to the side and follow with the other.

"Yer not gonna find any drugs." Daryl's words were a bit slurred, but seeing as his face was pressed against the wall he was sure it was excused. "I don' do, I don' peddle, I don' deal."

Shane stood up straight and grabbed a fist full of the back of Daryl's shirt. He yanked him across the living room, away from the door and his only exit. Off balance from the compromising situation with his hands, Daryl could only stumble after him.

He was tossed into the kitchen like a ragdoll. He tried to keep his footing but he slipped over broken glass and the silver wear spilled over the ground and he fell, with no use of his hands to protect him. Daryl hated the amount of noise that made. He felt sharp pain and prickling across his legs and his hip where most of his weight fell.

"Don't fucking move." Shane ordered as he disappeared into Daryl's bedroom. Daryl heard the sounds of his few belongings meeting a cruel fate. He shifted his weight gently as he pulled himself to his knees, ignoring the tingle of his few injuries and cuts. The numbness and shock wore off too quickly.

Daryl dragged himself away from the mess, leaving a small trail of bloody prints behind him. Making his way to the cupboards, to the side of the kitchen, Daryl was able to climb awkwardly back to his feet. The pain of a turtle stuck on the top of its shell familiarized with him as his bound hands made trouble.

Fumbling through the top drawer was difficult, he had to turn his whole body at odd angles so he could see what his hands were doing behind his back. He managed to just miss impaling his hand on the steak knife he had stored in there and grabbed at his cell phone.

Shane was swearing up a storm and pounding his way back through the hallway before Daryl could really do anything with it, so he slipped the phone into the back pocket of his jeans. The cop was crunching past the cracked glass and towering over him just as he had it tucked away, hidden.

Shane really was an unpredictable man. The beast really had no brain to mouth filter and that really showed in his actions. He rushed Daryl and had his hands on him again before Daryl could get anything in edge wise.

The fingers that pressed into Daryl's neck weren't friendly or comforting in any way. Daryl would have been fooling himself if he guessed his 'good charm' would get him out of this one.

"This is how this is going to work, you back country bitch." Shane's eyes were clouded with something insanely dark. Like a drunkard or a meth addict looking for their fix. "I'm going to take you down to the station and I'm going to put you away for a very, very long time."

Daryl huffed his disbelief, "You haven't found anythin' and ya can't hold me long for nothin'."

"You wanna bet." Shane challenged.

"Last time I fuckin' check it was innocent until proven guilty in this country." Daryl felt his arms instinctively struggle to assist his wobbling body as Shane's grip twitched tighter and his body heaved when he couldn't breathe for a second. He felt one of the handles to the cupboards dig into his shoulder blade.

Shane snarled like a dog.

"You can't take me in without a cause." Daryl added, "You should take another good look at yer handbook." Daryl didn't expect the slap, Shane was more of a punch kind of guy, but it stung all the same. He could feel his cheek burning red with a hand print.

"I have the power to put you away until you're old and gray. I know people who will bend the system and who will take care of you in court _and _in prison." Shane stated in a nasty tone, "I can get you out of it, though."

Daryl blinked a little. There was no reason for Shane to offer to help him. And, really, nothing to help him from.

"I already warned you to stay away from Rick and Carl and you didn't listen. I'm not going to make that mistake again." Shane shifted before Daryl and settled against him, "If you want to get away from all of this then I suggest you-"

"I'm not takin' suggestions." Daryl spat, "If you're insistent on giving them anyway then I _suggest _ya go find a suggestion box an' fuck off."

Shane wasn't too pleased with Daryl's response. He felt himself twitch towards just beating the hick's head up against the counter until he was out of snarky comments. Shane was sure he could hide the body. It wouldn't be too hard. Only a well placed call or a weapon. Rick would mourn for awhile, but he would move on.

Shane didn't do it though.

"I suggest you pack up and leave the city." Shane finished.

"Not gonna happen."

Shane clawed his fingers back into the previous wrinkles of Daryl's clothes and dragged him out of the kitchen, over glass and towards the door. Daryl could feel blood pooling between his toes and squishing under his naked heels.

The brute was out in front of Daryl, his muscles rippling and tense with fury. He looked like a cobra reeling back and ready to strike.

It took a moment to comprehend and reboot but Daryl hadn't been in his apartment anymore. He was in his hallway, and in his stairwell and passing through the lobby and people he lived by, his neighbors were staring at him.

Shane's rough hands were on him again, in his hair and against his hip and forcing him into the back of his squad car. The was a grate that separated him from Shane when the other finally slid in.

They drove for long time. Daryl lost track after awhile, but he was sure they passed the police station hours ago. It had probably been just after midnight when the car pulled to a lurching stop. Shane had braked hard on purpose and shot a pleased look in the rear view mirror when he heard Daryl slam into the grate. Asshole.

Daryl chewed heavily on his lower lips when he straightened himself out and he tried not to think about Shane's plans. He could see out the windows and through their perfect gleaming shine. The night sky was vast and beautiful. Stars, like millions of tiny wishes, sparkled and glistened, a far away hope. The moon was gracious and godly, holding up in the sky, a grin with no eyes. For the second time in his life Daryl would have given anything to be a bird, to be free and not constricted by the city, by his jobs, his responsibilities, by a deranged cop with cruel intentions.

They weren't in the city anymore. That was the downside of a good thing.

Maybe it was a 'no witnesses' thing.

They were on a long, empty road with trees and many miles of nothing. No one to hear him screaming.

Shane popped out of his seat a little too cheerfully and he stayed outside for a few seconds, looking up at the heavens as if he were thanking somebody. Maybe he was praying, but Daryl doubted it. Shane didn't really come off as someone who found God.

Daryl huffed and squirmed in his seat as he watched Shane pace around his car to the other side, to the one opposite him. Daryl maneuvered his hands, pulling roughly at his bindings until he could feel blood trickling down his palms.

Breaking his wrist was out of the question, even if he had been able to find something that could do it in such a confined space he would still have to get past Shane and with an injury like that his chances would be even lower, if existent at all.

The cuffs were too tight to squeeze through. Even using his blood as a lubricant couldn't seem to fly.

Daryl wobbled around in his seat, slipping his hands underneath him and rolling his shoulders until he was able to pull each of his legs in towards his chest and his arms past. They weren't behind him anymore, they were more mobile and he wasn't completely helpless. That was a bonus. It was hard to stay positive about it when he heard the door to his right slipping open and Shane was crawling in.

"Wha' tha fuck do ya want." Daryl demanded, cutting his words close and harsh. He set his back against the door and moved his legs on the cushion in front of him like a barrier. "Why tha fuck did ya take me here!"

"You're nothing more than a broken man in a shell made of glass." Shane grabbed at his ankles and yanked them towards him, straightening out Daryl's legs and pulling his back to meet the cushion. He tried to prop himself up with his elbows, but they wouldn't reach, not with the handcuffs, and he ended up just flopping around.

"Fuck you!" Daryl hissed and he looked up to meet Shane's eyes with a vicious passion but he stopped in his tracks when he only met two hallow, dead orbs of hate. Shane looked like he really, truly wanted to kill him.

"All it takes is one good push and you'll shatter." Shane seemed so certain and cold. Like he really wanted to break Daryl.

Daryl furrowed away when Shane hovered over him, forcing his legs apart and placing himself between them. He struck out with his hands and was met by brute force and a trap. Shane snaked his hands up and twisted the handcuffs until they were locked against the handle above his door. Daryl lifted, shifted and throttled his wrist and he wasn't able to budge more than three inches on either side. He heard the metallic clink and clutter and he would have been driven crazy by it if he had been given the time.

Shane breathed on him, his neck, as he fell back to sit over him. Daryl felt the cop's fingers tug around his waist as he brushed against him and they gripped at him occasionaly.

"Tell me wha' I'm doin' here." Daryl choked out a little too weakly for his liking. His voice faltered a bit more every time Shane's hands disappeared and all Daryl could do was feel them and struggle.

Shane could feel the scars on Daryl's back. Like canyons and mountains and a whole landscape of misery and pain. It felt as if they were burning him. Just to touch them.

When he pushed Daryl's shirt up he could see them.

"You're disgusting." Had Shane been in the right frame of mind he never would have said that, he didn't even think it. Not even as lost as he was. "How can anyone love you?" He said is sincerely and it almost shocked Shane that Daryl was capable of the expressions that passed over his face.

At first it was only shock and anger, his eyes widening and then narrowing and his teeth tightening and a feral growl buried deep in his throat. And then there was acceptance, once Shane had finished speaking, as if he believed those words to be true and had no right to say other wise, to contradict them.

"Where are the drugs." Shane barked and he could have sworn he saw Daryl flinch.

"There ain't no drugs." Daryl's accent thickened, his voice grew soft and he looked off to the side, refusing to meet Shane's gaze.

"Where are the drugs!" Shane howled.

"There ain't no drugs."

"Tell me where they are!" Shane's hands clamed onto Daryl's shoulders and he shook him.

"There ain't no drugs." Daryl repeated once Shane dropped him back, a broken record. His voice grew a little edged, though, tense and fierce.

"I don't believe you." Shane's fingers dropped to fumble with Daryl's belt and as soon as it was undone Daryl came to life.

He thrashed and yowled like a kicked animal, "Wha' tha fuck are ya doin'!"

Shane grabbed at Daryl's hips with a bruising grip and forced him to be still again, "Just answer the questions truthfully and you wont ever have to know."

"I swear ta God you're fuckin dead when ma brotha hears about this! And Rick's gonna know, too!" Daryl smoldered down to a seething anger, "You really think he's just gonna be fine with this!"

"What are you? A child?" Shane shook his head, "You think Rick really cares about you? He doesn't. You need to grow up and learn that no one gives a shit about a nobody like you, not Carl, not your brother, and especially not Rick."

"Yer wrong." Daryl bit, "Yer jealous is what ya are. He's chosen me over ya and he's only known me fer a lil' while. How sad is tha'? You've known him forever and he still doesn't like ya enough ta pick ya over a complete stranger."

Daryl was ready for the attack that time. When Shane lunged forward to hurt him, Daryl was able to land a blow first, his leg kicking back from where it was. He didn't do much damage, not with bare feet. He was able to leave a bloody foot print and ruin Shane's shirt. It was better than nothing.

Shane didn't hurt him, not that time, not when he was finally able to get his hands on him. Daryl felt Shane's fingers on his waist line again and he felt ill. He closed his eyes and tried to remember Rick.

"Tell me what you're hiding, hick." Shane's voice was tainted with venom all over again. Daryl writhed underneath his fingertips.

"I ain't got nothin' ta hide." through gritted teeth Daryl's voice sounded desperately furious.

Shane slipped his fingers into Daryl's jeans and pulled them down a little. Daryl, as predicted, reacted violently.

"Get tha fuck off me!" Daryl lurched as much as he could, Shane held him down, "I'll fuckin kill you!"

Shane couldn't quite connect the logic in his own actions. Of the time in the last few days, maybe when he heard the informant speak Daryl's name, Shane couldn't think clearly. Every time he tried to ask himself 'who' or 'what' or 'why' everything would go cloudy and he'd think of Rick and he'd remember Daryl and he would get so angry.

"I told you to stop lying to me!"

"This is a lil' fuckin extreme for a temper tantrum, shithead!" Daryl tried to pull away and Shane made sure he couldn't, "Don't ya think!"

"Stop talking." Shane covered Daryl's mouth with his hand and pressed down until the pressure would keep the hick's mouth shut.

Rick had been blinded by Daryl and with him around, tainting him, he'd never wake up and see that white trash for how evil he was. Shane swore to do everything in his power to remind Rick of who is friend's really were. All he had to do was go through with his plan, get rid of Daryl, and the hick would be nothing more than a broken toy. Rick would loose interest and finally get over his silly puppy love.

Shane fumbled with his free hand, reaching down to Daryl's jeans and waist again. "I don't care what I have to do, but I'll make sure you never see Rick again. I will make you feel like the trash that you are."

This wasn't about the drugs. It never was.

Shane felt Daryl teeth gnashing at his fingers when they loosened up a bit. Like a hungry animal. He let go of Daryl's jaw.

"Do ya really think yer gonna walk away from this!" Daryl sounded like he had swallowed his anger for too long.

Shane didn't bother to answer with words. Instead he scratched his way down Daryl's naval, over old scars. He went at Daryl's jeans again, slipping them off a little more before Daryl was able to thrash his hips out of Shane's hands in a thunder.

"If ya wanna get laid, crawl up a chicken's ass and wait!" Daryl quarreled.

"I'm going to take care of you one way or another," Shane leaned forward and whispered in Daryl's ear, mindful of his angry teeth, "and I'll get rid of you."

Shane watched Daryl Dixon break apart underneath him piece by piece and the strong untouchable man that Rick was so in love with disappeared between the immense, overbearing panic and fear that was bubbling to the surface and it seemed to over whelm him. His body quivered and shook and his eyes clouded with pain and Shane should have been proud. He had won. He should have been celebrating and cheering and finishing the job but his mind could only really process one thought,

_'What have I done?'_

XxxX

**A/N-** Heyyy...?

5 chapters left!

I thought up a new Rick/Daryl AU plot idea... Yeah... There are just a bunch of ideas floating around in my head... Well, I'll tell you guys when I can put the summary into words :D It's going to be called **The Whole Nine Yards** though, keep an eye out for info if you want! Plus, another called **Cease Fire**... and another called **Break Leather ** and one more called **Tarot**, but those last two are Destiel fics... :O .. oh, and also another Rick/Daryl story I will be calling **10-12** and now one I'm even more excited about called **Upstart**... and one more Destiel called **Chalk It**... and one more I don't have a title for...

I saw a prompt on Kinkmeme I'm going to start up, too, but I'll try not to post any new chapter fics until I've finished this story so I wont be too distracted! Don't hold me to that, though...

Ohhhh! I watched the new Batman movie :O Loved it.


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N-** The names of Popeye's four nephews are Pipeye, Peepeye, Pupeye, and Poopeye! How sad is that! Their parents were so uncreative! And what kind of name is 'Poopeye'! WTF! How is he supposed to get a job! I don't understand!

This is the kind of stuff that keeps me awake at night.

I wanna thank **Idril Isil Gilgalad**! You totally saved me with yer epicness! Thanks for the insperation! I got lazy around 2 AM and decided to cut that part of the story out all together... I suck. Maybe I'll put it in the next chapter...?  
Hey. Reader. Go check her out! Her stories are amazing! She writes Rick/Daryl! *Hint, hint; nudge, nudge*

As always, my thanks goes out to **Medoriko**, **simplegay me**, **DreamBiggerDarlingAE**, **velvetemr73**, **MinuteCloser2Failing**, **Ihasabukkit**, **KagXmi**, **Idril Isil Gilgalad**, **Damion Star**, **lucky713**, **Mlle T-Rex**, **Marion**, **writerchick0214**, **kaszz-chan**, **Silver Mirror**, **Downey**, **deelove1**, **TheColdFlame**, **6747 **and **Peachy Moose**! You guys are amazing and it's thanks to you guys that I love writing this story so much!

XxxX

"Jealousy is the most sincere form of flattery."  
_Unknown_

XxxX

**Dollface-**

Shane watched his reflection and fought off his nausea at the same time. He felt almost accomplished that he could do both in that moment.

The mirror was blurred by mist from his shower, the heat from the water turned up full blast, engulfing the little room in a hazy fog.

He wiped off the glass with his hand, seeing clearly and coming face to face with something that made his stomach roll. A creature of anger was looking back at him with hallow eyes, boring holes of hate into him.

The animal sneered at him viciously and licked its lips, twitching forward out to him with a shaky limb, its fingers ensnaring on the mirror as Shane reached out to meet it half way. The contact was solid and cold.

Shane's reflection looked monstrous and vile. His eyes were bloodshot, his few wounds, the bruises and the claw marks from another, more desperate man, stood out on the canvas of his skin like fresh, violent paint.

Shane refused to recognize the beast as himself and he didn't. He admired it, letting his eyes roam over taught muscles and a gleaming demeanor and he allowed his gaze to rest when it arrived on the sink. His hand dropped to the counter top, brushing the back of his knuckles against granite and polyester as he caressed the sink's nozzle and the drain. He turned it on, letting a bitter cascade simmer down into the bowl. He cupped at the water, holding a puddle in his palm for awhile before it rimmed and over flowed.

The water splashed around, the sink filling the room with everything but silence.

Shane could see another broken reflection of himself in the streams and a few minutes later, when he couldn't take it anymore, he turned the sink off. He felt rather numb, in a way he couldn't explain, not even to himself. Especially not to himself.

His hands were keeping him steady as his legs shook and threatened to buckle. He propped himself up on the counter with his palms down and his elbows locked straight. Shane let his teeth grind together, his jaw grit as he got a good view of the red, puffy look to his lips.

His tongue tasted of something foreign.

Shane found himself reaching for the bottle of mouth wash in the medicine cabinet. He unscrewed the cap, having trouble with the tight grip, and he fumbled the bottle to his lips. He wasn't sure how much he drank, only aware that he was choking on it as it caught at the back of his throat and failed to save him from the sick, unwelcome taste that still lingered after he could breathe properly.

Shane rummaged through his drawers frantically, unsure what he was looking for but lost in the desperate need to find it. His hands landed on a buzz cutter.

Lifting the little device from the nest of wires and hair toys left by one night stands, Shane eyed the hair clippers with a sort of suspicion. He held it eye level and took it in.

It didn't take enough effort to unwind it from its cord, to plug it in, to turn it on, to take it to the top of hair and drag long lines across his scalp.

XxxX

Daryl shuddered against the spray of his shower's head. He wasn't surprised to find that it was far too cold but deep down he had really been hoping that just this one time it wouldn't have been.

He could still feel Shane's fingers on him, holding him down. Restraining him. He could still feel the cold biting metal of handcuffs and the slimy aura of someone unwanted pressed much too close. Daryl flinched.

It was hard looking down at himself. He couldn't help seeing the canyons the cuffs had dug into his wrists and the crescents of fingernail marks up and down his arms.

Daryl could have been chained up to the back of a car and dragged across gravel for how he felt, but he figured it wasn't all physical. He knew the signs of emotional damage. He knew that he had spent his entire life building up dams and Rick's best friend had just spent the last two hours tearing them down.

He knew a panic attack when he felt it.

He fell to the ground of the shower and he didn't really mind. He was tired of having to support himself on feet too unstable to do their jobs, anyway.

Daryl hadn't even bothered to get all the way undressed when he stumbled into his bathroom to bathe. He was wearing everything but his shirt and he had lost track of where that had ended up. Maybe it was still in Shane's car. He hoped so. Maybe someone would see it and assume the worst and maybe, if he was lucky, punch that shit head in the throat.

His whole body was shaking. Daryl knew it was not just the cold because he couldn't breathe.

There was knocking on his door and a familiar, with held voice and Daryl couldn't bring himself to respond. He took a grated, much needed gulp of air and let it heave out of his chest like he'd been punched. He tried again and he choked. He tried again and he felt a sob rising in his throat. He swallowed it down.

"M'fine, Merle." Daryl heard his voice break and he hid his head in his knees, humiliation squeezing his eyes shut and gripping ruefully at his throat and his gut.

A grunt from the other side of the door, locked and secure, alerted Daryl to his brother's disbelief. "Ya comin' out any time soon?"

"You gotta take a piss or somethin'!" Daryl barked fiercely, his voice terse and unfriendly, though he sincerely didn't mean for it to be.

"Nah, I'm jus' checkin' in on ya!" Merle jumped to his own defense with a snarl and Daryl could feel the regret washing off him in waves, even through the door.

"Then fuck off." Daryl's words held no venom and came off as a plea. He heard Merle hesitate, hovering for a minute before stepping away, leaving his baby brother to piece himself together alone.

XxxX

When Shane showed up, Rick didn't recognize him at first. It wasn't just that he had gone for a new look, a completely shaved head, but his whole personality, the air around him, had changed into something nearing manic. It was only instinct to take a step back.

Lori was on the couch, curled up with a mug of coffee and the newspaper as she tried to wake up. It was only the wee hours, Carl was still in bed and Rick was wishing he was too. The day before had been absolutely perfect. He wasn't ready for his wife to ruin his good mood.

Shane followed his habit of entering without knocking, it startled Rick a little when the door swung open, but he recovered quickly. In his good mood he forgot his anger towards his best friend and smiled. He even forgot to register the differences in the other man.

"He's in love with you, isn't he." Shane's tone was quiet and horrible, his teeth bared. Rick furrowed his brows and waited for the puzzle pieces to be put together, "He kept saying your name."

"What are you talking about, Shane?" Rick pulled his friend back to the front door where it stood closed and sturdy. He lowered his voice so the now ever so curious Lori couldn't eavesdrop.

Shane made a feral noise at the back of his throat and Rick pulled away like he'd been burned. He waited for his friend to release from his state of tension. "Do you love him too!"

"Love who?" Rick stepped forward and then back again, "What are you talking about?"

Shane didn't seem to follow with the common curtasy of keeping his voice down, "You know who I'm talking about!"

"I just," Rick fought away his confusion, "Daryl?"

Shane moved to hit Rick and Rick reacted, raising a hand in defense, but the blow never landed. When he looked over Shane was just standing there, seething.

"What's going on?" Rick hadn't expected Lori to be so close, he didn't expect her eyes to speak of curiosity and worry.

"Rick's in love." Shane's voice trudged down to a grainy, nasty level. Lori's eyes shot open wide and her mouth dropped open gracefully. "With a man."

Lori couldn't seem to put words together and the only thing that passed her lips was a few stray lines of incoherent babbling. She watched Rick, waiting for an explanation, a denial.

Rick didn't have either.

"What is he talking about, Rick?" Lori finally gasped, her hands flew to rub at her belly carefully, "Who are you in love with?"

"I'm not in love with anybody!"

"Liar!" Shane spat.

"It's just Daryl!" Rick retaliated and Lori's eyes grew like saucers, mixing pools of shock and fury. "It's not love! I mean," his voice dropped to something more nostalgic, "I just think about him and I want to be with him and I just can't wait to... learn about him. I like him. I like being with him, is all. That's not love."

Shane's anger was dabbed away and Rick could have sworn he saw his features soften with shame and something almost inquisitive.

"I don't love Daryl." Rick repeated and his tone trailed off.

"Rick," Lori's eyes were red rimmed, "You are."

Rick looked to Shane for back up, falling on years of old habits, he tried for support and the look on Shane's face, liked a kicked puppy, gave him nothing. Shane ran a hand through his hair and chewed on his lips, his nervous tic. That was when Rick realized Shane had done something wrong.

"Rick, it's okay." Lori inched her way forward and Rick brushed her to the side.

"What have you done, Shane?"

Shane looked away.

"What have you done, Shane."

Shane closed his eyes.

"What have you done, Shane!" Rick was leaping for his keys, yanking on a jacket, listening to his heart beat thump erratically and he wasn't listening to Lori. He wasn't listening to anything. He was out the door before Shane could confirm anything because deep down, in the pit of his belly, he knew something was wrong.

XxxX

"I hope yer allergic ta nuts, 'cause I'm gonna kick yers up into her throat!"

Merle hadn't come off as a pleasant person when Rick had gotten his first look, weeks ago, but standing face to face with him and feeling the immense weight of a man born to raise fear was a terrifying experience.

The look on Merle's face was murderous.

"Where's Daryl!" Rick tried to force his way into Daryl's apartment but Merle's mass blocked him easily. He made a move to the other side of the doorway and his plans were foiled as the big man set a paw around the front of his shirt, clamping down hard.

Rick tried not to trip over himself.

"Ya can fuck off with yer 'where's Daryl' bullshit." Merle snarled, "I'ma give ya twenty seconds 'cause I'm being generous."

"Twenty seconds?"

"I'm glad ya asked." Merle brought Rick in for a close up and Rick gagged on the overwhelming smell of whiskey. "Ya got yerself twenty seconds ta get yer ass down them stairs and out of this apartment before I go an' I get ma shotgun an' we have ourselves a party."

When Merle pushed Rick away he tripped over his own feet and crashed to the ground. Rick could hear the seconds ticking away in the beat that was slamming in his ears.

"Please, Maryl!"

"It's Merle."

"Merle!" Rick brought himself back to his feet slowly and the timer hit fifteen. "I need to talk to Daryl!"

"No ya don't." Merle corrected, "Fuck off."

"I need to know what happened."

"Fuck off."

"I need to know if he's alright." Rick knew the clock hit ten and he briefly thought about how far away the redneck's gun would be.

"He's not a'right and ya know sure as fuckin' well know who's fault that is." Merle rolled his shoulders, readying himself for a good fight. Readying himself to take all of the frustrations that had been building up inside him on the man who caused them.

"You have to let me see him!" Rick started towards the door and Merle was right there, like a brick wall. "I just want to see that he's safe."

"I had ta pick ma baby brotha up from off the street in the middle 'a fuckin' nowhere at four in the morning." Merle challenged, "He was wearin' handcuffs. He called me up on a cell phone he had ta hide. He had just been fuckin' attacked."

Rick gulped, not in fear, but at the thought. His eyes shot down to the fringy, old carpet laid out under toe. He tried to think of something else.

"Ya wanna know the last time shit like that happened ta him?" The first time Rick had seen Merle he had been wired out on drugs. It seemed unnatural seeing the big, bold man almost sober. "A long, long time ago. I left that first time and I ain't leavin' no more. I'm fuckin' sick of comin' to see my baby brotha and seeing his shit misplaced and his body broken! I'm not doin' tha' again!"

Watching Merle in his furious frenzy, it dawned on Rick that everyone really was fighting their own battles. That, just as Rick had been through stuff and Lori and Shane had been through things, Merle had been through his own troubles. Daryl, too. The brothers might have been through much, much more, much, much worse than anything Rick could dream up.

It made him dizzy, becoming aware.

"Ma brotha needs me ta protect him and I ain't gonna duck out on him again. This is tha last fuckin' straw." Merle pointed a heavy, meaty finger into Rick's chest, "And if yer tha problem I will keep ya as fuckin' far away from him as he needs ya ta be."

"I'm not the-"

"Yer out'a time." Merle whirled around, rushing into the kitchen and, sure enough, coming up with a gun and killing intent.

Everything went deadly still, painfully silent when the door to the bathroom popped open and a ragged, tired man appeared. He didn't look like Daryl.

"Daryl." Rick moved into the apartment, his blockage gone.

Rick watched Daryl's face as the other man quickly tried to build his calm back up, paper up the cracks in his facade. It was painful to watch.

"Ya need ta go, Rick." Daryl's voice was unfamiliar, bitter and sore. Like he'd used it too much or too little.

"I came to talk to you!" Rick called back.

"I don' wanna talk." Rick could see a puddle of water pooling underneath Daryl, his hair, soaked, water dripping down the length of his torso to join the rivers running down his legs. He was wearing the same pair of pants he had on the night before, for their date, but they, too, were wet.

"I" Rick's mouth felt too dry as he felt panic, as he felt the closed off walls Daryl was building up. "I have no idea what happened. I'm so sorry though. God, I'm so sorry."

Merle hissed something and Daryl shot him a look that kept his brother abnormally quiet.

"I need ya ta go." Daryl's mind was a monochromatic record repeating 'he can't see me like this, he can't see me like this, he can't see me like this, he can't see me like this'.

Rick couldn't stop his body. He legs moved on their own and he took a full stride forward. Daryl's reaction was unpredictably violent.

"Fuck off, Rick!" Daryl yelped fiercely, "Fuck off, go away!"

"Daryl." Rick took a comforting tone, setting out a hand in front of him like was dealing with a stray animal.

"Get tha fuck away from me!"

Rick actually felt his heart tear in two. He had always thought that saying was a metaphor. "Tell me you're alright and I'll leave."

"I'm fine!" Daryl hollered, "I'm fine, I'm always fuckin' fine! I've been through worse!"

"I don't believe that you're fine."

"Ya said you'd leave!" Daryl slammed the door to the bathroom shut, and Rick heard it lock loudly and a body press against the opposite side desperately.

"Let me see you!" Rick spoke out to the door, "I'll take care of Shane! I know he did something! I'll take care of him! I'll do whatever you want!"

"Kill him!" Merle ordered.

"Leave." Rick almost couldn't hear Daryl's response. It was so short, so defined, so biting that Rick's heart skipped a beat. And he did as he had promised. And he left.

XxxX

Rick returned home to Lori and her tense, awkward attempts at conversation. She had sent Carl off to Sophia's for a play date and Shane had left after Rick, too ashamed to face him again.

Lori let him take a seat at the table and she wobbled over to sit beside him. She maneuvered her bloated, little belly comfortably and settled in.

"Do you know what Shane did?" Lori hadn't spoken that softly to him since their wedding night. Rick blamed the hormones rushing through her pregnant body.

"No." Rick set his face in his hands.

"I'm sure he didn't mean to," and Lori was defending Shane again and Rick felt absolutely betrayed. "He looked so sorry."

"Lori," Rick started and his wife looked up at him with a sad smile, "Is he really the type of man you want around your newborn baby in a few months?"

And Lori didn't have an answer for him.

XxxX

**A/N-** Yepp... I start school in six hours... I haven't done **any **of the homework I was supposed to do...

So, I started some stories for real, I have the first chapters up.

**Upstart : **This is actually my favorite right now! It's about Bare knuckle boxing :D Rick/Daryl

**Thick as Thieves : **Every seen Smokin' Aces? It's my version of that with the Walking Dead cast instead... It's the same concept, 7 assassins going after on hit, but it's my own version of it. I'm not following the movie. It's slash, but the pairings are fuzzy and not the main focus. Updated it too. 2 chapters up.

**Birds of a Feather : **Flock together. My first real Daryl/Glenn story.

I updated Burn, too!

I've been busy XD Sorta...

4 chapters left!


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N-** Ever play Toss the Turtle?

**Darkfire The Phoenix**, **NeverQuiteFinished**, **oldsoul56**, **BlackRain-BlackBlood**, **MacDixon Love**, **InsonsInsontis**, **Emily**, **6747**, **Stacey**, **Mark-Ray-Grey**, **simplegay me**, **mikatsolo**, **medoriko**, **DreamBiggerDarlingAE**, **Silver Mirror**, **Marion**, **Idril Isil Gilgalad**, **MinuteCloser2Failing**, **Daryl's bitch**, **KagXmi**, **Downey**, **deelove1**, **CreepyNieghborGirl**, **writerchick0214**, **kaszz-chan** and **DeDe324**, you guys are amazing! I couldn't have gotten this far without you!

Another shout out to **AkitaKoari **because I wouldn't have picked this up for a while yet without their persuasion, and to **Darkfire The Phoenix **for keeping me inspired and keeping me excited! ((Gawd, I lived in Phoenix for twelve years and I still can't spell that word without looking at it a few times))... Anyway, though, thank you so, so much!

XxxX

"We make war so that we may live in peace."  
_Aristotle_

XxxX

**Dollface-**

"He didn't actually go through with it." Daryl cleared his throat and shifted the collar of his shirt. "He chickened out, dumped me on tha side a tha road before anythin' got too serious."

Merle grunted animalisticly into his beer, he settled into the couch like a predator, eyes cold and dark, spine slouched and angry. He twitched viciously and silently. He brooded and he seethed.

"But, Rick-" Daryl swallowed his feelings down when he heard his voice catch. "But Rick..." And he didn't know what to say.

It was story time with the Dixons and Daryl was on the stage, catching his brother up on everything. Almost everything.

"I can git 'im killed, Darlynna." Merle grouched, "I know a coupl'a fellas up state who owe me a few favors. I can call them in and they can handle it before tha sun sets."

"It's midnight, Merle." Daryl said slowly. He rubbed a hand over his face. "The sun set hours ago."

"Yew know what'a mean!"

"More violence ain't gonna solve nothin'."

"Not if yer not doin' it right."

"Violence ain't tha answer."

"Then yer just not askin' tha right questions." Merle almost sounded desperate, like something almost emotional grated on him deep, deep down. Daryl didn't let the thought cross his mind, didn't let the hope dwindle his spirit down further.

Daryl pressed his lips together, "Can't let emotions git in tha way'a yer actions."

Merle's eyes dropped to gaze at him. "Can't have emotions if yer a Dixon, Darlynna. Man up, we ain't sissies."

Daryl placed his head in his hands and folded over his knees. He tried to make himself small. "I know."

The couch cushion beside him dipped down and Merle was too close. Hands moved to comfort Daryl and only smothered him, pressing on his back and caressing carefully, cupping his shoulder and pulling him up and holding him in place to say, "Bury that pain deep, brotha, there's no room fer it now. You have to be strong, take it to yer grave."

And Daryl choked it all down.

XxxX

Rick found Shane. He searched for him. He tracked him. Rick hunted him down.

Shane was in his office at the station, huddling behind a wall of week old coffee cups and too many files. He looked pale, sick and sad. His back was hunched over his desk, he was unshaven and standing out with his new haircut.

Rick didn't think, he didn't need to. He had spent the last twelve hours building up his rage, pacing like a caged beast, fuming as he scavenged through the city for any sign of his friend, his partner, his cheating bastard. And he found him.

Rick saw Shane before Shane saw him, which gave him plenty of an advantage, but Shane did end up seeing Rick, just as Rick was storming over and he had just enough time to raise his hands up to protect his face as Rick wheeled his fist forward. Only Rick didn't aim for his face.

Keeling over, Shane gasped and gagged for breath, his hands flying down to cushion around his gut and Rick took the opening. He felt Shane's face crunch away from his second punch, he felt Shane's balance teeter over and he watched as Shane's chair tipped and spilled the man onto the floor clumsily.

Shane was stuttering before he was even able to steady himself on the ground, "Rick! Rick, I know you're mad!"

"I'm not mad, Shane!" Rick growled and he pounced on his friend, "I'm livid!" Rick punctuated his exclamation with a blow that sounded hideous on contact, "I'm pissed!" and another, "I'm furious!" And another, "I could rip your throat out right now and feel absolutely nothing!"

"Rick!" Shane attempted to catch and deflect his best friend's hands as they launched down to land on him, and he slipped up. He tried again and the wrists broke out of his grip and caught him painfully against his collar bone. "Rick, stop!"

"Do you think this if funny, you bastard!" Rick snarled as he punched out again, "Do you think this is a joke?"

"Rick, I'm sorry!"

"This isn't a game!" Rick yelled, "This is Daryl!"

Shane stopped fighting back, he didn't bare his arms as a shield, thrash or go on the offensive. He simply closed his eyes against the assault. Rick landed two or three more serious, heavy bashes on Shane's upper chest and chin and then settled to a hazy halt. Shane's eyelids flicked open and his gaze linked with Rick's. They stared at each other with blends of loss and misery, of confusion and anger and they said nothing for a long while, even as the other officers around them pried at the situation curiously and cautiously.

After waiting a minute to make certain that Rick was done, Shane pulled himself out from under Rick and back into his seat. "Let's fucking talk this out instead of punching me drunk." He sort of deserved the last punch that earned him.

Rick's face twitched as he tried to control himself, "You have no fucking right to demand anything right now! I could call the police and have you arrested right now!"

It was Shane's kind of ironic, seeing as they were in the station and both cops themselves, but he didn't laugh. "I'm sorry." He said sincerely, "I had... I had no idea that I'd go that far."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean!" Rick was towering over Shane's cowering figure, keeping his fingers entangled in the material of his best friend's shirt. "Do you think your stupid excuses are going to work this time!"

"Of course not!" Shane blundered, "I know nothing I can do will make up for it, but I... it's not like I wanted... I didn't mean to!" Rick knocks a fist back and aims to strike him again, but Shane jumps to keep him from it. "I just got so god damn angry when I saw that you with that redneck fuck-"

Rick didn't hesitate to cut Shane's sentence off with a quick slug to Shane's jaw. Rick felt like he was boiling when he listened to Shane talk and talk, as Shane tried to push off the blame and finger his over dramatic emotions as the cause. Rick wouldn't hear it. He refused. He wasn't about to let Shane walk away once again, not unharmed at least.

"Try that again!"

"I just," Shane stutters, "I just..." He had never seen Rick this angry before. Not ever. Especially not at him. He didn't know what to do.

"Listen to me." Rick said coldly and Shane's body betrayed him as fear cracks through him like ice. He stopped moving, stopped talking, and watched Rick scold him like he was a child. "Do you think that after all of this I will let you anywhere near Lori? Near Carl? Near _my _baby?"

Shane winced worse than when he had been hit. He flinched away from the emphasis Rick put in his words. "Do you think Lori will let you near that baby? After everything?"

"I've done nothing to deserve your accusations."

"You think so?" Shane muttered sarcastically, darkly. "You think we were perfectly fine when we found out you were..." Shane paused on the word, "_with _that animal? When I found out I wanted to break your jaw. Leave you to choke on your own teeth."

Rick held his breath as he digested what Shane was saying.

"That's nothing compared to what I wanted to do to that fucking hick, though." Shane swallowed. "I'm sure Lori felt the same."

Rick struck out again, knocking his knuckles across Shane's cheek bone until his brain rattled. "You betrayed me. Lori did too. Neither of you have any right to know anything about me anymore."

"She's still your wife." Shane said, "And I'm still your best friend."

"You are not my friend." Rick snapped back, "Friends don't do what you just did."

"Rick." One of the older officers came up and clasped a concerned hand onto Rick's shoulder, only to have it shaken off. Rick turned to face him, keeping himself calm. "I don't know what happened, but I don't think this is the time or place."

Rick nodded respectfully, "I know. But, as you said, you don't know what's happening here."

"I'm sorry, Rick, Shane, but you're distracting the other officers from their work. Could you please take this somewhere else?"

"We're almost done here." Rick shook his head, "If you would just give us a minute-"

"You can either leave and finish your argument somewhere else, or you can finish it in one of the cells blocks in the back."

XxxX

Daryl had almost fallen asleep, sprawled out on the couch, arm tucked under his head as a cushion, feet propped up in his brother's lap. He was half buried underneath the blanket Merle had tossed on top of him, the one that had once been tucked neatly over the couch. Daryl looked cozy, he looked tired, he looked calm.

"We should go out tomorrow," Merle kept his voice husky and low, trying to get Daryl's attention, but not wake him completely. "We should do somethin' fun, like we did when we were kids."

Daryl hummed sleepily.

"We could go over ta tha' arcade." Merle rubbed the stubble of his chin, "Is tha' thing still runnin'?"

"Nah,"

"What happened ta it?"

"'sa strip joint now."

"Well, that don't sound too bad!" Merle laughed, "Ya up fer it?" Daryl kicked his brother lightly and grunted at the round of laughter that followed. "Guess not."

The atmosphere was much lighter. The tension had left Daryl's shoulders and although Merle knew it was temporary, that it was only a matter of time until everything bubbled to the surface, any problem was evaded for the time being. He hoped Daryl was stronger than him. He hoped his baby brother's new cop friend would be around long enough to pick up the pieces. He hoped they would work something out.

Merle had figured it out. Merle knew what that cop was to Daryl as soon as he had seen his brother's expression the day he opened the door and there Rick was. He saw the initial look of shock and confusion that had easily hidden the excitement and surprise. And the happiness. Dixon's were rarely happy.

A year ago, Merle would have dragged Daryl away, thrown him over the couch like their father used to do, taught the boy a lesson, forced him to be normal. Forced him to hide everything, feel nothing, hate always. Only, Merle understood. He got it. Because just eleven months ago, Merle had met the girl of his dreams and found out that women and Dixon's don't mix too well. He found out that people he love will break, and people he needs will leave and people who taught how to be human didn't know too much on the subject themselves.

Merle had figured that if Daryl turned out like him, like their father, at least Rick could take it. At least Rick could fix it, like no woman Merle's every met could.

"We'll figure somethin' out." Merle laughed, "I'll call in sick tomorrow."

"Yer an idiot."

"I'm an idiot now, am I?" Merle challenged playfully, "Could an idiot get yew outa work, too!"

"Yeah, prolly." Merle snorted with laughter when he saw Daryl's little sleepy smirk.

"Yer such a fuckin child, Darylnna."

"Says the full grown man who can' seem to be able to tie his own shoe."

"I can tie ma laces!" Merle defended, "I jus' can't seem to keep them tied!" Daryl's quiet laughter trailed off as he finally fell asleep.

XxxX

Shane didn't look so smug anymore. He looked beaten and bruised and filled with sorrow. Like he had lost a good friend. Rick felt like he was betraying Daryl for feeling sorry for him.

"What you did was unacceptable." Rick dropped to sit on the curb and opted to watch cars pass by instead of his friend's melt down.

"I know."

"I don't understand how you thought doing all of this would have returned us to normal." Rick sighed, "I don't understand what you were thinking at all."

"I was thinking," Shane said, "that we were so fucked up, the three of us. I was thinking that as long as we kept together we would make it work. We always made it work before. And I thought that that redneck would rip us apart." Shane paused for a long while. "I was always in love with Lori, since the moment you introduced her to me. Since the moment I laid eyes on her. I was always drawn to everything about her."

Rick felt guilty, and he knew that wasn't right.

"Did you feel that way with Daryl?"

"The first time I met Daryl he had a gun to his head." Rick laughed bitterly at the memory and then frowned. "and my child and his girlfriend had run away from school in time to get mixed up in that mess."

"I remember." Shane said fondly.

"I think the first thought I ever had of him, though, was 'Wow'." Rick chuckled, "Just 'Wow'."

Shane eyed him warily before plopping down on the street beside him. They had left the police station behind twenty or so minutes before, choosing to relocate rather than being restrained. They were regrouping outside of a Starbucks down the road, trying to pick up where they left off but finding neither Rick nor Shane had the energy to strike up a fight again, physical nor verbal.

"I really fucked up this time, didn't I."

"Yes you did."

Shane rubbed his face down with shaking hands, "I just wanted to go back to the way things were. I just wanted to be friend's again."

With Shane speaking like that, confessing so easily, everything started to seem so childish to Rick. He didn't want to think about any of it anymore. He wanted to find Daryl, he wanted to put him back together and make everything all rainbows and flowers. Only, the Daryl version of that.

"It doesn't work like that."

"I know. I'm so, so sorry man." Shane sobbed dryly, "I didn't mean to hurt him. I didn't mean to hurt you."

Rick cleared his throat and ran a hand through his hair and said, "I know, brother."

XxxX

**A/N-** "Before you diagnose yourself with depression or low-self esteem, first make sure you are not, infact, just surrounded by assholes."

For those of you guys who read or wanted to read my Avengers fic, I took it down until I'm ready to pay full attention to it, because the plot is far more in depth than anything I'm used to.. bleh! I'll try again in a few months, sorry!

Happy Halloween, you guys! 4 chapters left (Yeah, one more)


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N-** "Lucy fell in front of a train,  
She screamed out for help  
'HELP ME! I DON'T WANT TO DIE THIS WAY!'  
so Luke came running and cut her throat instead.

Nice work Luke."  
I read this on MemeBase the other day and I'm still laughing.

**LilyAurora**, **halfemptyflask**, **sugarsuicide**, **Guest**, **silentnyx**, , **mongawonga**, **InkyBrown**, **casparEB3**, **Narias**, **AkitaKoari**, **mariahueb**, **Darkfire The Phoenix**, **Downey**, **simplegay me**, ** .Cenation**, **Lenna Marx**, **xJerichoxOrtonx**, **KagXmi**, **medoriko**, **emorenji**, **Riku-Aura777**, **6747**, **Peachy Moose**, **MacDixon Love**, **Silver Mirror**, **Guest**, **Marion **and **LisaBoston**, you guys absoultely rock! I love you guys!

XxxX

"An event is not truly over until everyone is tired of talking about it."  
_Mason Cooley_

XxxX

**Dollface-**

It was a school related event or a birthday party or something, Rick hadn't read the flier and Carl's rambles hadn't made much sense so he wasn't sure. Rick hadn't asked his kid to repeat himself, he didn't want the sugar-high rant to start all over again so he just put his shoes and his coats on and drove where Carl told him to go.

There were a lot of kids running and screaming like their excitement had suddenly made them burst into flame, but they were not on fire so Rick figured they had no excuse to be screeching that loud. Their parents didn't care enough to keep control as long as the bar across the street had a good stock of booze and the chaperones didn't come over to tell them their kid was dead. Rick wanted to join the other adults, seeing as his wife and best friend ruined his life and his not-so-much romantic relationship was at a standstill due to sudden unforeseen events. He believed he earned a good drink.

Only, Carl kept dragging him about, telling him things he couldn't focus on and barking out lists Rick had no hopes of ever recalling and he didn't catch anything that came out of his son's mouth. Carl didn't seem to notice, or maybe he didn't care, but Rick was grateful.

Rick was worried about Daryl, and his -or Shane's- new baby, and Lori and more of Daryl and as always, worrying was doing absolutely nothing but giving him a headache. He wanted to squint, shut his eyes closed so hard that when he opened them his troubles were gone. He tried, he tried over and over and over again and each time he blinked and he would still feel so incredibly alone.

Carl was a smart kid, but hopefully not smart enough to catch onto his father's discomfort. Judging by the way he kept glancing up at him he already probably had. But, it wasn't as if Rick's day or Rick's life could get any worse from here on out so he settled for what he had and hoped it wouldn't start miraculously raining.

Morgan, who had too, brought his son, explained to Rick quick and easy that the school was having a paintball gun tournament for the end of the trimester. Duane looked wound up and excited about the whole thing, his eyes wide and bright and glancing around all glittery and hopeful. Carl, interestingly, stuck at Duane's side like glue or old friends the moment he saw him. They had no problem ditching their dad's, lazily tossing something about their new quest of finding Sophia in the crowd of kids from school as they went.

Rick felt bad for the relief that ran through him when Carl took off. He felt bad for feeling bad, and bad for feeling bad for feeling bad and so on until it piled itself up to one more awful pit of guilt burning through his gut. He sighed, defeated, and Morgan was quick to take notice.

"You don't look too hot, have you been sick or something?" the man shoved his hands in his pockets and cocked his head over to the side with interest.

"I'm fine." Rick told him, "physically."

"Ah," Morgan murmured understandingly.

"My life is an emotional wreck right now, it's hard to explain."

"I understand," Morgan tells him sympathetically, "I'm sorry I can't relate, but I'm always here if you want to talk about anything."

Rick could blow off Morgan's offer, ignore it on the grounds that he would never understand, but the look on the big man's happy face told him he would. Rick smiled, if only just a bit and nodded. Maybe one day he'd take him up on that. But, today wasn't that day.

Carl, Duane and Sophia were strapping up in protective gear and planning out survival techniques when faced with the big kids. Rick felt a twinge of pride when he saw Carl using the gun skills he had taught him at the range a few months back, even talking to his friends about the rules and regulations.

"And don't put your finger on the trigger unless you're ready to shoot." Carl quoted his father as they were handed their paintball guns and facial protection by an unamused math teacher and chaperone. Sophia tied her hair up in a ponytail and flashed the no nonsense smirk of a warrior. If the gun in his hands could be locked and loaded like one of Rick's that little girl would have done it and looked awesome.

"Let's go boys." And like the leader of any survivor group, Sophia took the lead into the field of big kids and big gear and dominated.

"Damn, that looks like fun." Morgan laughed and shook his head.

Rick smirked his agreement, letting himself lose his wayward depression in the idea of a little fun. "We should come back here sometime, with the kids and the families and have a Morgan versus Grimes war."

"I'm going to hold you up on that." Morgan smirked.

"You know," the math teacher leaned against the side of the entrance to the ongoing chaos of the tournament and said, "some of the adults are in the other field doing their own."

Morgan's interest peeked dangerously, "Seriously?"

"Yeah." the teacher told them, "I heard there were a couple of other guys in their kicking all of their asses all by themselves."

"Just two of them? Against how many?"

"I dunno," the teacher told Morgan, "Maybe two dozen."

"Damn!" Morgan whistled, turning to Rick, "We need to check this out."

"Uh, no." Rick laughed, "I'm pushing forty, I don't think that's going to happen."

Morgan shook his head and grinned big and wide and scary, "C'mon, I'm not going in there unless you do! And don't you think that this is going to cheer you up, if not just a little!"

"Don't even try, there's no way you're getting me in that field."

And honestly, Rick had no idea how Morgan pulled it off, but five minutes later he was padded and armed and thrown into a crowd of full grown adults screaming like their kids outside.

Rick weaved around the bars and walls and stuck close to Morgan, cheating and falling back a bit on his police training. Morgan was already laughing and whooping with good cheer, jumping up and down through the maze of obstacles and still managing to shoot teenagers and fathers in the face as he moved. Rick would offer him a job at his station with moves like those, but he hardly wanted to take the family man away from his wife and son and replace them with work, work and more work.

He showed off a bit of his own trained skill because why not. He hit four or five of the ones dressed in red before remembering he had no clue how this worked. He turned to Morgan the first chance they had to duck under cover. Their hid behind a large blow up cube, stuck to the ground by tent stakes and the stick of mud.

"Who am I supposed to be shooting?" Rick almost smiled when Morgan responded with rough, gritty laughter.

"We're on the yellow team," Morgan pointed down at the padding lined with neon, "the other teams are red, green and blue so you can shoot any of those guys. The two you heard about from that chaperone with the kids are the only one's on the green team, and since their supposed to be so great at this I dub if one of us hits them they're worth extra points."

"Uh," Rick chuckled unsurely, "alright."

Morgan had no trouble fighting his way around the field, taking parents out left and right, signaling Rick to move, to cover him, to stay still or to stay quiet and Rick just sort of rolled with it. He found himself almost forgetting about the things that weighed him down throughout the last few sleepless nights, he almost got lost in the hearty chuckles Morgan would throw over his shoulders, he almost fell into the game of life and then his happier train of thought was interrupted.

"Now, if it ain't Officer Friendly!" The voice to Rick's right was sickeningly sweet and oh, so familiar. The memory of the man made Rick shudder and flinch and glance awkwardly up. Paintball gun or not, Merle was intimidating with a weapon in his hands. Rick felt sorry for whatever sorry sap ever got on his bad side. Or, the worse bad side. "What a coincidence."

Rick had never seen Daryl's big brother in attack mode, a serious attack mode, anyway, and he was certain it was a death sentence. Every time he saw the man he listed tactics in his head on ways not to piss the big brute off. Hopefully, Morgan would catch onto the vibes and not do anything stupid.

But, Rick could hope all he wanted and after all the bullshit that went wrong these last few months, only bad could go to worse.

Morgan shot Merle in the face without batting an eye, cheering something about extra points and holding his palm up to Rick, his buddy, his pal, for a high-five salute. Rick shrunk away from the look of fury on Merle's face.

"Tha's not fair! I was talkin' ta this guy!"

"No, you weren't!" Morgan argued back like a child, "You were trying some weird sneak attack!"

"What sneak attack plan has walkin' up ta tha enemy anywhere in the routine!"

"I don't know! That's why it's a sneak attack!" Morgan barked, "It's doing something completely unexpected, tell him Rick!"

And Rick, who had been trying to shuffle away, looked very awkward. He croaked out a quiet, desperate, "Please don't drag me into this."

Morgan was already back into his conversation with the redneck, which, as immature as it could possibly get, ended in a spray of green and yellow pellets from the two fully grown adults. Rick just hid on the other side of the cube and willed for a guerilla attack so he could get out of there.

What came was so, so much less expected.

Daryl, clad in green and black, sneaking and clambering like someone far too talented to just be one of the city folk, crept his way up to the side of the cube, knocking himself against it gently and keeping himself out of the line of sight of his brother and Morgan. He hadn't noticed Rick sitting on the ground on the other corner, or maybe he had and didn't care or didn't recognize him. Rick chose not to call for any attention, instead he watched and he admired.

The stance Daryl pulled was so easy and at the same time, so incredibly thought out. He looked comfortable as he watched and waited to see if his brother was in trouble, like he could easily wait there, in that pose, for hours, but he could also leap away, fling himself out of any danger quicker than a nervous alley cat. So predictably unpredictable, he was.

Rick watched Daryl watch his brother's situation for awhile, waiting until the man had settled and calmed when he recognized how silly the fight was. He stepped back, closer to Rick and his side of the cube, and the cop felt his heart-race pick up with anxiety.

Rick, briefly, wondered if he looked stupid with all of his protective padding on and sort of wished that Carl was there to tell him. Daryl pulled the gear off well, though, so Rick let himself hope for the best as he brushed himself forward until he was only a quarter of a foot from Daryl and his scars and his problems. And Rick was so mesmerized it was embarrassing.

Daryl slide down, back against the soft material of the cube, to sit next to Rick, only the tip of a ninety degree angle separating them. He sighed, long and hard, laying his head back to look at the bright, blue sky and the few fluffy clouds. Maybe, Rick began to think, he hadn't noticed him there.

"This has been," Daryl licked his lips and pulled the goggles up to rest on the top of his head, "a very insane last few weeks."

Rick swallowed, "It certainly has."

"I'm sorry I'm such a," a pause, Daryl stopping to browse for the right word, "such trouble."

"That's nothing you should be sorry for." They hadn't even looked at each other yet, and Rick could still almost see the expressions flashing over Daryl's face. "Shane just... Shane was being an idiot, and he really fucked up. It's my fault though, I can't make excuses. I should have watched him better. If I had kept an eye on him I could have talked to him and cleared everything up. Maybe none of this would have happened. Maybe Lori and I,"

Rick stopped and he thought that maybe he had wanted something like Shane and Lori to happen. Perhaps he needed some excuse to reevaluate his place in life. Perhaps he needed the wake up call from his daily routines and the zombie look in his eyes, in his movements. Maybe he needed Lori and Shane to happen in order for Rick and Daryl to happen.

Daryl had gone so silent while Rick thought that he could easily add, "I'm glad it happened though." Daryl jumped, as if startled, "Not what Shane did to you, I still want to skin him for that. I'm glad he got with Lori, though. I'm glad they found each other, that they made each other happy. They deserve each other."

For the first time since the scene in Daryl's apartment, since before Shane's attack maybe, Daryl turned and he looked at Rick. His eyes assessed, and his mind contemplated, and his teeth ground thoughtfully. They shared this look and Rick continued.

"I don't know what I want to do about my, this, baby." Rick admitted quietly, "I don't know what I want to do about Shane or Lori or work or life in general, but I do know what I want to do about you."

Daryl took a long pause and a shaky breath through grit teeth. He looked so distrustful and angry and vicious, and underneath that, he looked so hopeful and curious. Rick smiled a little and Daryl almost returned it.

"And what is it yew wanna do?"

"It doesn't matter as long as I'm at you're side and you're at mine."

"Have I ever told yew how fuckin' cheesy yew are?"

"Once or twice," Rick laughed.

"Some days I just wanna drown yew in a bath tub."

"And other days?"

Daryl chewed his lower lip, thinking, he said, "Other days I would settle fer a lake."

Rick laughed and he just couldn't stop, not just at the unexpected humor, but in relief, he wasn't sure he had ever heard Daryl tell a joke before. His chest suddenly didn't feel so tight, so heavy. He felt his eyes brighten with mirth and with happiness and he shook his head slowly as he tried to get a grip because despite the fact that Rick had just dumped his heart out and Daryl, in his own way, sort of maybe accepted it, there were still a war of paintballs and parents raving on around them.

"So what's the plan?"

"With what?"

"With anything?" Rick smiled as Daryl pulled himself to stand, standing over him and offering a hand. Rick said, "We should go get a drink or something while we wait for Carl, talk stuff through, maybe do something with the kids after?"

Daryl held out a hand and Rick took it, securing himself to be pulled to join Daryl on his feet and instead of a lift he was pushed down again by the barrel of a paintball gun. It aimed and fired on the pads on his chest, splattering green. Daryl smirked, a classified, pretty thing and finally helped Rick to his feet.

"Now that I've won, we can go," Daryl started, "I heard there's a bar across the street."

XxxX

**A/N-** I feel like all the signs for black friday are just inviting me to stay at home, nap and eat leftovers...

I've been working non-stop on a new Walking Dead Rickyl story I'm going to be writing as my main focus after Dollface is finished, only it's sort of maybe my main focus now... I'm writing chapters, and I'm on chapter four right now, and I suck and I posted the first one early, so it might maybe probably get even further in the way of finishing this story. It's called **Second-Class Citizens**, so check it out if you're interested. I'm very excited for it.

Is it sad that I've only very recently discovered Tumblr?

Plus, Daryl and Rick were supposed to fight and get pissed at each other in this chapter in a vile and dangerous need to protect one another from themselves. Do not know how that will affect the rest of the set up for **Dollface**, but we'll see won't we.

Three chapters left, Happy Thanksgiving to all, and to all a good batch of leftovers!


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N-** A common thread I find in my reviews are comments saying that Rick and Shane's relationship should have taken a dramatically negative twist seeing as Shane is now a violent threat, and an unstable one at that, but I'd like to explain my thoughts real quick... I don't see pre-apocalyptic Rick acting in the same kill-all-threats officer friendly we see as walkers and tragedies twist him. He had a lot more faith in humanity before everything went to hell in a hand basket, wouldn't you say? And he'd especially more faith in his best friend.

Special thanks to **Idril Isil Gilgalad** for showing me this week's quote, if I remember correctly, she translated it and everything! It does, in my opinion, touch a lot on Rick's view of Shane right now.

Many, many warm 'thank you's to **jadekeca**, **Petteroes3**, **foxianVic**, **Cohen's girl**, **Buckismith**, **Guest**, **petteroes**, **the duff**, **OranjeJuice360**, **MizzBee**, **Angelas**, **Maelstorm And Osmosis**, **writerchick0214**, **Q**, **Medoriko**, **Guest**, **Damion Starr**, **frozenclover**, **Marion**, **prowlingPanda**, **MacDixon Love**, **simplegay me**, **silentnyx**, **californiabound17**, **Downey**, , **DreamBiggerDarlingAE**, **Silver Mirror**, **InkyBrown**, **halfemptyflask**, and** 6747**! You guys are absolutely amazing!

XxxX

"Because you didn't know how to pretend I realized immediately that to see you how I wanted to it was necessary to start by closing my eyes" _  
Julio Cortázar_

XxxX

**Dollface-**

Lori hated the doctor's office, from the fake smiles and dead eyes to the underlying smell of death, just hardly covered by the thick scent of bleach. She waddled herself around in her booth, swaying her weight back and forth and back and forth and she never found a comfortable position. The old, crinkled tissue paper that sat underneath her was supposed to be a health precaution, but she had her doubts. The thing was created just to be an inconvenience, was her bet. She found herself more irked than anything, and in the hormonal state she was in, it didn't surprise her at all that she found herself completely willing to rip out anyone's throat. Even Rick, over in the corner, and his big, goofy smile.

He had had that look on his face for two days now, even when Lori would snap and bite at him like some rabid animal. He had the giddiness of a high school boy going to prom, and really, it was the same one he'd worn a week after Lori had given him his first blow job. She wondered whose lipstick she'd find on him now if she looked. Only, after the thought passed through her mind she thought 'oh.' and hurried to a new topic.

Shane looked nervous, if his fumbling was anything to go by. He kept dropping and tumbling the things he would pick up, over and over until he admitted defeat in trying to take his mind off things and settled into a chair against the wall to brood. Lori smiled at the side of his head, at the furrow of his brow, at the frustrated wrinkles on his forehead. The similarities between him and Rick were many, but the differences were astounding.

Where Shane faltered, Rick was brave. Where Shane was weak, Rick was a defiant wall. Where Shane was small, Rick was meaningful, but there was so much more to Shane. So much more draw, so much more compassion, so much more love and lust and feeling. He was everything Rick was not, in the same way that he aimed to be everything that Rick was.

Rick was pacing, tapping his shoes hard on the disturbingly clean tiles with a clap, clap, clap. His smile faltered sometimes, when a new thought, one that must be about Shane and Lori and the baby inside her flickered through his head. His teeth flashed out for a moment to chew angrily at his lips and he pulled them into an unwavering line. He thought of something else for a moment, almost as if is was an afterthought, and just like that he would huff a quiet laugh, rock backed on his heels and be return to his giddy school girl routine.

Lori wondered about Daryl and the layers that drew Rick in. She considered the mysterious theatricals about him, and the odd way he smelled, and the gruff, rough back country look to him and she tried to remember any time in her marriage that Rick's eyes had lingered too long on anyone of Daryl's description and she couldn't. For so many years Rick only had eyes for Lori.

Lori considered her betrayal. Her gut twisted and she recalled her words, and Rick's and Shane's too and she felt sick. Not sick enough to move to find an escape, but just enough that she shifted against the crinkle of paper again to find a spot less uncomfortable.

She rubbed her belly thoughtfully, picturing a baby with Shane's hard, defined features and a baby with Rick's smooth smile. She kept the images in her mind until the doctor came in.

Axel Temple was an uncomfortable man, with his unshaven face and his odd way of talking, the way he would raise his voice up for no reason and then drop it to a fine whisper unexpectedly. Lori didn't like him much, didn't trust him, but the doctor she usually went to was on leave for the next few months with her own baby and she could find no one else.

Doctor Temple did his routine while avoiding as much eye contact as possible. It was quite a feat with two full grown men and a moody woman breathing down his neck, but he managed, shaky fingers and all. He set to his paper work and his clip board, producing music in his note taking.

He opened his mouth for the first time only after he set his things down, to hum softly. "Hmm, everything's looking good so far!" Shane tensed up and Lori couldn't tell if he was waiting for a 'but' or if he was thrown to the edge of his seat by the sing-song glee of the doctor's voice.

"Are we going to do an ultra-sound?" Rick asked from his corner, his smile nowhere to be seen.

"Of course," the doctor grinned, "And would you guys like to know the sex of the baby while I'm up in there?"

Shane muttered, "Up in..?" while Rick responded with a simple positive.

"And we'd also like to know who the father is."

Lori set her head in her hands and waited for the doctor's brisk and short reply, she waited for his disgust or his disappointment in her vile actions but nothing came but a nod and a tasteless joke.

"If you'd like," the doctor snorted, "I could set you up with an appointment with Jerry Springer?"

"That'll be all." Lori snapped, "Thank you." Temple scurried out with his handy dandy notebook and his tail tucked between his legs.

The room was left feeling as empty as ever as the doctor took the comfort and the ease and Rick's easy smile with him. The thought of a parental test loomed over them all, bringing with it images of Lori and Shane and Lori and Shane and Lori and Shane. Rick flinched and bore the weight of love silently.

"We should think of names." Lori whispered softly. She watched her boys' reactions and waited for them to speak.

"We should wait. See what the baby looks like first."

Shane nodded his agreement, ramming his hands in his pockets. "Yeah."

Lori heard the paper wrinkle underneath her again. She pulled her pony tail tight, clearing her throat and piercing her lips. "Then should we talk about what's going to happen when we find out who the... who's going to help raise the baby?"

"I want," Shane hesitated, observing Rick for a moment before starting again, "I want to start a family with you, Lori."

Rick flinched, avoiding eye contact with anything but the floor. His shoes kicked against the tiles and he stepped forward and backwards like a pace cut short. He settled for standing -swaying- again after a few uncomfortable moments.

"You don't have the right to say that just yet." Rick finally spoke.

Shane itched the back of his neck and licked his lips, nodding somberly at his friend, "You're absolutely right, I'm sorry." He pierced his lips, clearly realizing he was stepping on egg shells.

"What about our 'happily ever after' Rick?" Lori asked, facing her husband, "Do you really think that still exists now?"

Of course Rick didn't believe in it, he didn't want to. The thought of spending the rest of his life with Lori, sitting back and waiting for a repeat experience just like this, knowing he wasn't good enough, never, ever getting the chance to trust again. The very idea crippled him with sorrow. So he slowly shook his head at his wife.

"So where does that leave us?"

The doctor crashed in with a wobbly cart, smacking into both sides of the door frame before clambering in loudly. He didn't notice he had interrupted a tense conversation, or he didn't comment or apologize for it. Temple settled into his swivel chair, pulling his cart along with him. Set up on it was the ultrasound, its wires strewn messily around it, its screen staring blankly at them. Temple propped himself and his equipment up beside Lori's bed, switching on his monitor and the rest of his tools and plunging the room into an awkward silence.

Rick watched as Shane sauntered up to stand beside Lori, he watched his hand snake up and take Lori's hand like a secret. He witnessed their eyes meet, and their hearts flutter and souls sing all from ten feet away. Rick felt more betrayed than ever.

The doctor worked to get his machine running and Rick let the blundering man distract him. Temple motioned to Lori and she sat back against her booth, glaring at the ceiling impatiently at the crinkle of the tissue paper and lifting her shirt up to expose the plump, round proof of a baby.

Temple laughed, twirling his mustache between his fingers like the bad guy, he giggled like a child, a creepy, hairy child. "So would you like to talk about any of the-"

"I've done this before," Lori told him, "we don't want to sit through the whole opening speech again."

Temple nodded slowly, uncertainly, like he had never dealt with a hormonal mother before. For all Rick knew, and for all the clumsy and inelegant moves the man made, he probably hadn't. "Of course, ma'am, my apologies."

Lori didn't respond, but waited until the gel for the procedure was squirted onto her belly. She squirmed when she finally felt it, smiling up at Shane and whispering, "It's cold."

Shane grinned back, eyes alight with the honor of looking down on her.

Rick would be lying if he said he wasn't bitter. Watching his two best friends act so in love in front of him would be fine in most situations, but Lori was still his wife. Lori was still his son's mother, and maybe his new child's mother. And maybe not, he flinched.

A black and white mass appeared on the little screen near Temple, floating in and out of view, catching everyone's attention. Shapes and forms blurred and shifted around, dancing with the projector, with time and space as a little baby was formed. Rick had forgotten what it felt like, to look into a monitor and see faith and hope and life and the future all on that tiny, black screen. He had forgotten what it felt like to stand next to a miracle, a pitiful shrimp in the whole, wide world, and have it mere inches away. He could reach out and touch it if he wanted. He could feel it on his fingertips.

For just a moment, Rick saw the world was beautiful again. And in that moment, Rick wanted nothing more than to show it to Daryl.

Shane reached out to touch Lori first, brushing the side of his thumb over Lori's belly, smiling softly, blinking away tears of awe. He looked deep into Lori's eyes, and Lori looked into his and they just existed together, and that was enough for them.

"It's a baby girl." Temple cooed.

And Rick couldn't stay in the room anymore, not while he knew that Lori didn't love him anymore, she hadn't for a long time. Not while knowing that Shane had completely replaced him, had taken everything Rick had loved for so long. Not while knowing that that baby inside Lori that Rick had already found himself cherishing might not be his.

Rick mumbled something about going to the bathroom as he bolted to the door. He didn't look back, he didn't let anymore memories of his past marriage flood him, he didn't think about Lori or Shane or the little fetus growing for them. He thought about Daryl and nothing else.

Daryl would have the answers Rick needed. He had to. Rick didn't want to turn to anyone else. Not ever again.

XxxX

Daryl was at one of his many jobs but Rick didn't have much trouble finding him. He had become reluctantly observant of the time over the last few months, keeping mind of where Daryl would be in his schedule regardless of if Rick was planning to see the man or not.

It was still morning, not quite noon, so Rick had began and ended his search at the car repair shop. Despite all the change that had twisted Rick's life to an unrecognizable level the shop was still the same as when he had first visited. The same drugged up kid greeted him at the door, the same sick gasoline smell wafted from the same thick doors, the same whirring and clanking of heavy tools could be heard.

Daryl was hiding underneath an aged truck, fumbling for gears and gadgets as he worked on the bottom of the engine. Rick watched him for a while, smiling thoughtfully as Daryl's hand popped out from under the vehicle to wrestle for a bag at his waist blindly. Rick kicked the bag softly, nudging it encouragingly to meet the tips of Daryl's fingers. It was clutched tight and dragged under the car for further scrutiny.

Daryl tossed around in the bag, seemingly oblivious to any of the outside world, or of Rick's presence. Rick thought about pulling up a chair and making himself comfortable. He wasn't ready to go anywhere, and just wasn't sure he could face another heart-wrenching, soul shattering conversation about the things he'd done wrong in the last few months and the sound of Daryl clanking away under cars was more comforting than it had the right to be.

"Sumthin' on yer mind." Daryl's voice said from under the truck. Rick would have startled, but was too busy sighing with relief. He wasn't too sure why his shoulders suddenly felt lighter, and his legs felt weak, but it felt good and he didn't want to question it. He waited for the other man to wheel out into sight.

"It feels like every time I see you you're either in danger or recovering from something awful." Rick eyed a couple of angry, black bruises on Daryl's shoulders and sighed, feeling a sudden and violent urge to ask. "Do you think one of these days we can talk under different circumstances?"

"Different?" Daryl sat up on the skateboard, "Prolly not."

"That's too bad." Rick held out a hand to help Daryl up, but it wasn't taken and Daryl stayed, comfortable with his spot on the ground. Rick let his hand drop.

A beat passed where the silence in the air was tense, almost suffocating, and almost unfamiliar. Rick wasn't used to the feeling, at least not around Daryl. He wasn't prepared to see suspicion flash through those blue eyes. It was all gone before Rick could really analyze it.

"I thought ya had a meetin' with tha baby's doctor." Daryl spoke up finally, "What are yew doing here, did it end early?"

"Not exactly." Rick admitted quietly. "I wanted to see you."

Daryl hesitated, his face twisting in confusion until his eyebrows were deeply furrowed and his lips were curved into a frown, "Me? What for?"

"I just," Rick scrambled for the words, "Things were getting complicated. I didn't want to get involved."

Daryl stopped breathing for a second, as if he were pondering a world that took his breath away. His chest hitched only a mere millisecond later and he said, "Is tha baby all good, then?"

"Yes, she is."

"She." Daryl noted, looking off into space. "A baby girl, then. Any names picked out?"

"No." Rick shuffled, "But I don't think that's up to me."

Daryl's eyes shot over to Rick, "And why not."

Rick coughed, pulled on the collar of his shirt and quickly changed the subject, "I've been thinking."

"I have a mind to be worried."

"You and I should just go." Daryl eyed Rick with the same distrust a father would a daughter on prom night. Rick continued regardless, "Somewhere, anywhere, no-where. Wherever. I don't want to be here anymore. I don't want to be around Lori and Shane and their… the baby."

Daryl observed Rick with knowing eyes.

"I can get you away from here, away from your brother." Rick's voice choked and caught and stumbled all over, maybe with excitement, maybe with fear, maybe it was his brain begging him to stop. "I can get you away from this horrible life, you won't have to work three awful jobs or even get out bed if you don't want to. You and I could go live the white picket fence life, with apple pie cooling on the window sill, a dog on the lawn, a baby…" Rick's words drabbled off into the distance and the only sound that followed was the protest from the skateboard as Daryl stood up.

"Look at me, Rick." Daryl ground out past grit teeth. He got close to Rick, smelling of oil and muck, and then stepped two or three feet back so Rick could look him over. Rick saw nothing out of place on the man, only a deep look of vicious disappointment on a dirty face. "Do I have tits?"

The question struck Rick at a weird angle, and he couldn't bring himself to answer with Daryl eyeing him with such a hard, serious look. He sputtered out 'Uh?' before Daryl answered for him.

"No, Rick, I don't have tits. I'm not a woman. Yer spewing bullshit ta tha wrong audience. If yew want ta be banging someone who's goal in life is pie and pups yew can go right ahead: walk outside and fuck tha first bimbo yew see." Daryl shook his head. "And yew best think twice before yew bring up ma brother or ma work again."

Rick smiled apologetically, "You're right. I'm sorry. I was thinking like, I was just… Lori used to… When…" Rick abandoned his statement, knowing how awful it would sound no matter how he put it.

"Yeah." Daryl rolled his eyes. "I don't know where yer goin' with all this, but I think yew need a night ta sleep on it."

"I've thought about it plenty." Rick told Daryl, stepping closer enthusiastically. "I just want to get you away from all this chaos. I want to get out of here with you."

Daryl snorted, mostly out of disbelief, but with a bit of spite. "Fuck off, I'm not going anywhere."

"Aren't you sick of this town? Don't you want out of here?"

"I seem ta be a lot more comfortable than you." Daryl growled, trying not to let Rick know how cornered he felt. Rick's face was set with determination but his eyes were lost, Daryl could see it, and he wasn't about to let Rick make the biggest mistake of his life.

"I can get us out of here, Daryl." Rick said again.

"And what about Carl." Daryl hissed. "You're just going to leave your son behind?" Rick threw his head back like he'd been hit and Daryl worked with it. "And that baby girl."

"She's not even mine-" Rick tried again, and this time more of him looked uncertain.

"How tha hell do yew know that fer sure!" Daryl barked. He felt shaken, himself. He wasn't used to confrontations.

"She doesn't need me." Rick said, "She doesn't need me in her life."

"And I do?" Daryl asked with a hiss, "No chance in fucking hell! Get yer ass back ta the doctors and take care of yer responsibilities. I will take care of myself, fuck yew very much."

"I love you."

Daryl's breath left him painfully, like he'd been shot. He wasn't ready for that, not in the very least. The 'L' word wasn't in the job description. This wasn't supposed to happen. It took too long to get his brain working right again.

"And what tha hell is tha baby supposed ta think if she grows up and she has yer stupid smile and yer stupid eyes and yer stupid laugh?" Daryl spat, "She'd be smart enough ta piece it ta'gether sooner or later, I know that! And then what is she gonna do when she has ta look herself in the mirror every morning and know she wasn't good enough for you! She is going ta look at herself and everyday she'll think she wasn't worth it! She will believe in her heart that yew never loved her, that she wasn't worth loving!"

Rick gapped. He couldn't respond, he couldn't get his breath back fast enough. He couldn't process the unexpected questions or the truth behind them. He couldn't swallow down the proof being chucked at him. He couldn't come to grips with the pain and sorrow behind Daryl's angry eyes.

"You've been betrayed, Rick, I get it. Yer hurting, and yer angry and yew don't want ta face tha problems that're piling up behind yew, but yew can't keep running, yew idiot! Yer making all tha wrong choices right now and I'm not gonna sit here and let yew tell yourself yer doing it fer me!"

"That's not it, Daryl-"

"Stop making excuses, Rick." Daryl stopped him, "Yer fucking up yer life because yew don't know what else ta do. If yew can't figure it out by now, I will figure it out fer ya. Go back ta yer wife, take care of yer baby and yer son and tell yer friend how much of an asshole he is and then make up. The connections yew have with tha people yew love are more important than anything in the world. Don't loose everyone yew have over some misplaced need ta be a hero ta me, Rick."

"Shane and Lori betrayed me." Rick whispered in disbelief, "How can I just go back to life as it was?"

"Yer stupid, Rick. In all the right ways." Daryl told him, eyes softening ever so slightly, "I know yew well enough. If they just disappear out of yer life now you'll never be able to live with yourself. You'll regret kicking yer family out of yer life."

Daryl looked too tired all of the sudden, like someone had cut the strings from a puppet. Rick watched the man take a breath before squating down to gather his tools with uncharacteristically clumsy fingers. He scooped what he could into his bag and with one more look over his shoulder he said softly, "I'm sick of your bullshit, Rick. And I'm not going to be your excuse anymore." Daryl sauntered off into the maze of broken trucks, neglected engines and big, old, rusty tools, leaving Rick to gather his brains and wrestle with his thoughts.

XxxX

**A/N-** Happy New Year! Sorry it took so long, I've been dealing with a lot at home, and it all recently just took a turn for the worse so I'm not sure how frequent the updates will be, but they will continue, don't worry. My rule: any story still up on my profile I will finish.

2 chapters left, last I checked, but honostly, that was months ago...  
See you next time, thank you so much for putting up with me!


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